Monthly Archives: August 2014

A brick-lined cast iron tower marks the shifting sand bars and strong currents where the Housatonic River meets Long Island Sound at Stratford Point.

Friday, 29 August

This dredger looks like a re-purposed Chesapeake buy boat.

There’s not much traffic on the Sound this morning, not underway nor over-the-air on Channel 16. A couple of commercial fishermen dredging for shellfish, a motor yacht off in the distance, but other than Little Red chugging along, it’s quiet out here. With the Labor Day weekend about to begin, this is a bit of a surprise.

Red answered the call shortly before nine this morning, pushing Steadfast into Long Island Sound from Milford, out toward Stratford Point, then once again due west past Penfield Reef and up into the Saugatuck River. That’s downstream from Westport and home to Cedar Point Yacht Club,  where our sail designer / maker friend Kerry keeps his J70 and had arranged for Steadfast to tie-up while we visit him and JB in Darien. Sweet!

“Just study the chart,” was Kerry’s advice. “There’s plenty of water. Just…make sure you follow the marks.”

Cedar Point YC is tucked inside a dredged basin off the Saugatuck.

On the chart, the channel does look a tad narrow. And yeah, the water’s only a foot or two deep either side of the markers, it would appear. But it’s pretty straight-forward, right?

“Yeah…just stay in the channel.”

Which Steadfast was able to do, though not without some momentary lack of clarity on the part of her crew. Coming in from the Sound, one sees way more reds and greens than shown on the chart. It turns out several mark a side channel to starboard. And lest there be doubt, the main channel is narrow, barely wide enough for two boats to pass. Likewise the turn into the dredged basin that is home to Cedar Point YC. There’s plenty of water in there, the clubhouse porch provides panoramic views to the Sound and both members and staff all are welcoming.

The mean tidal range here is about 7′, not enough to float a skiff when low.

Ashore, JB arranged for yoga one day and a 14-mile bicycle ride the next, and of course, laundry in between. Sunday included lessons in sail trim aboard Kerry’s J70, Menace. It was great fun for a couple of cruising sailors but the fluky light wind wasn’t much of a tune-up for Kerry’s next regatta, the J70 World Championships next weekend in Newport. Labor Day became a bit of a blur with packing, provisioning and the drive back to the boat.

That drive includes a couple of miles on the Connecticut Turnpike, I-95. Unlike the Sound on Friday, there’s traffic. Quite a little. A small price to pay, though, for such a good to visit with friends.

Steadfast out.

Wednesday, 27 August

Along with all the new ports to explore, the trip home means re-tracing some portions of the cruise, some of necessity (there’s no alternative) and some by choice. Milford, Connecticut, is one of the latter.

Even after the light was built in 1802, hundreds of ships still wrecked on the reefs around Faulkner’s Island.

The duck pond, town landing, waterfall that tumbles under Stonebridge, village green, all made this the first taste of “New England” on the way east and a flavor to be savored on the way back.

With that in mind, the anchor was hauled in at 0855 and Steadfast headed out of Duck Island Roads into Long Island Sound. There was a good bit more wind, and more west in it than anticipated, so Little Red kept at it all 25.7 nautical miles to Milford. A west-flowing current chopped up the sound but also boosted speed to an average of plus-six.

The heading of 270 magnetic kept her a mile or two off shore most of the way so photo ops were limited. But the day was uneventful, Steadfast was tucked into Milford Landing by 1330 and after a vigorous walk, a plate of whole bellies awaits at Stonebridge Restaurant.

The taste of New England, indeed.

Steadfast out.

Tuesday, 26 August

It’s been another “gold star” day. More remarkable is the fact that it’s the second such day in a row.

The crew of the airship Met-Life swung over Duck Island to say hello.

A “gold star” cruising day is one during which no transaction takes place—aboard or ashore—that contributes in any fashion to bolstering the World Economy. Of course, provisions are consumed but these are ghosts of purchases past, not today. This day, and yesterday, no check was written, no credit card was swiped, no currency exchanged hands. Thus, a bright gold star—like the one that went next to your name on the board in grade school—goes in the 26 box, and the 25, on the August page on the calendar.

It’s also been a most relaxing and restorative kind of day in as much as the only distance Steadfast covered was as she swung on her anchor with the changing direction of wind off Duck Island, the only water that passed under her keel was moved by the current running six hours so’west, then six nor’east or thereabouts.

A shop in Greenport has nothing to do with Duck Island but the awning’s too good ignore.

Not that the day wasn’t busy, mind you. There was more rowing to be done; a couple of thirty-minute laps around the anchorage. Ports to be polished, filters to be checked, batteries to be charged (the dinghy motor’s and ours), preparations made for a run tomorrow toward Milford. The siren call of the Stonebridge Café beckons, what may be the last fried whole bellies of the summer.

Perhaps not. As the weatherman is wont to say, only time will tell. But this much seems certain: tomorrow won’t win another Gold Star.

Steadfast out.

The “Coffee Pot” light marks the end of Oyster Pond Reef off Orient Point.

It’s no fun to be in Plum Gut and see the New London Ferry bearing down.

Monday, 25 August

As with “The Race,” much is written in letter and lore about passing through Plum Gut. There’s good reason. The pass between Plum Island and Long Island’s Orient Point is narrow, lined with rocks and the chart warns of tide rips that can exceed those of The Race. Oh, and not to forget, that narrow channel fills frequently with the New London-Orient ferry.

The design of the granite Plum Island Light is almost the same as North Light on Block Island.

After the big build up, the run through Plum Gut turned out to be anti-climactic. Less there be any doubt, anticlimactic is good in this case. Under bright sun, with a light westerly, the toughest part of the day was steering through the wakes of passing powerboats while still keeping Steadfast on her heading.

The original purpose of Cedar Island Light was to guide whalers between Sag Harbor and Gardiner’s Bay.

She left Sag Harbor shortly after nine, turned right to round Shelter Island and motored past Barcelona Point and Cedar Island. From there, it’s a straight shot across Gardiner’s Bay to The Gut, guarded by Plum Island Light to the east, Oyster Pond Reef Light to the west. Steadfast was there right at slack tide so the biggest concern was staying out of the way of the ferry.  The ferry has the right-of-way and has a schedule to keep.  It doesn’t alter course for sailboats.

Beautiful close to another great day.

Once through The Gut, the wheel came left to 290 magnetic to cross Long Island Sound to the west end of Long Sand Shoal. The anchor finally splashed down about 1430 between the twin breakwaters of Duck Island Roads.  That’s just off the beach at Westbrook, CT. Little Red did great work again today—all day—pushing Steadfast along at roughly 5 knots average for the 25.8 nautical miles.

Note: one is not considered marooned when it’s one’s own choice to go to the island.

The most exciting part of the day may have been when Kate rowed over to explore Duck Island, only to find it posted as a bird sanctuary. Exploration is limited to the beach only.

So not much in the way of excitement this day. It is hoped the same proves true for the night.

Steadfast out.

The 191′ Intuition and 160′ ShadowL silhouetted against the evening sky.

Saturday, 23 August

The sky this evening over Intuition, thick clouds battling the blue beyond, is remarkable. It’s the same in the sky over Shadow L. But then, Shadow L, Intuition, Indiscretion, Blind Date and the dozen or more other so-called “super yachts” here are remarkable in their own right.

Here is Sag Harbor, New York, just a harpoon’s throw away from the hoity-toity Hamptons of Long Island.

You just never know who you’ll meet in Sag.

Yes, the Sag Harbor of Billy Joel, Jimmy Buffett, John Steinbeck and so many others of the famed and fortunate is another port founded on whaling. Go figga.

Steadfast arrived yesterday after a lovely sail from Greenport, ‘round the south side of Shelter Island. Ten knots out of the east-nor’east allowed for a broad reach, then a reach to a beat into Noyack Bay before Little Red sprung to life to bring her to Sag. It’s hard to imagine whalers tied off five across on Long Wharf but they say that’s how it was in the 1840s when whaling made this town. As with New Bedford, Bristol, Salem and others, evidence remains in the walls of incredible homes that have survived the ravages of time and the economy.

The much-beloved Cap’n Hand may have been the model for Natty Bumpo.

No question, Sag’s had her ups and downs. But like those other harbors and towns and people, she has survived. Downtown today is an interesting mix, for sure. The chi-chi boutiques and eateries line Main Street, spread among stores that serve the working man. Emporium True-Value offers one of the most complete hardware inventories imaginable over three floors, right there on Main. A few doors away, there’s a Laundromat and in between, Schiavoni’s Market, a complete grocer with all a sailor could ask. And this just a couple of blocks off the dinghy dock at Long Wharf. That’s great for visiting crews, sure, but one gets the sense that Sag is here for four seasons, not just the summer.

What once was home to a successful merchant now houses Sag’s Whaling Museum.

That was the case, for sure, with Capt. David Hand whose simple home on Sage Street was built, they say, in the late 1700s. The good cap’n is thought to have been the inspiration for James Fennimore Cooper’s character Natty Bumpo of The Last of the Mohicans and his other “Leatherstocking Tales.” (Cooper’s another of Sag’s many sons of letters.)  And with the temple to whale oil built by Benjamin Hunting II, the front door framed by bones of whale jaws, blubber spade decoration along the roof line, this Greek-revival mansion is something to behold.

To save on rentals, Indiscretion comes complete with wheels.  Can you find the Mini?

In this harbor, Steadfast is in company with a number of her size and temperament; modest yachts whose owners are just tickled to take a boat under sail for the day, an afternoon, an hour even. They are attractive, well cared-for ladies, each with character born of experience. They’ve seen a cloud or two and taken home their crews—if not always in comfort—with confidence. These gals’ll get you there.

Not that Intuition II would not. At 191 feet, she has the look of a ship that could handle most anything the sea might send at her. Likewise Shadow L and the others of their ilk. They’re solid for sure, as their paid crews are aware. But what of those who sleep in the owners’ staterooms? Would their wonder at the wind and wave and battle above be any deeper, more profound than those several decks below?

Hmmm.

Steadfast out.

Race Rock Light’s massive masonry foundation took 7 years to complete.

Thursday, 21 August

There was a sense of it on the approach. Once stepping ashore, it was confirmed. Steadfast is not in New England anymore.

Underway this morning by 0830, she motored out of Stonington Harbor and across Fisher’s Island Sound toward The Race. That’s where the Atlantic speeds in and out of Long Island Sound. At one point, the depth drops from 40-feet to 300 putting a charge into currents that run up to five knots or more. Between the tricky currents and a rock-strewn reef, this was the site of many shipwrecks until Race Rock Light was completed 1878.

It’s fairly easy to spot now, though, and with her arrival timed to meet the ebb, Steadfast sped past at nearly eight knots. But that meant she’d buck the ebb the rest of the way, across Block Island Sound, into Gardiner’s Bay, along Long Beach and the west side of Shelter Island, down to Greenport. The light easterly was of no help, so all of the 28.4 nautical miles were due to the faithful efforts of Little Red.

The original screwpile light off Long Beach Point was replaced with a frame house.

The plan had been to pick up a town mooring in snug little Stirling Harbor. The mooring fee, however, seems to have doubled in the recent past. It now costs nearly as much for a mooring with no amenities as for a slip with full facilities at the town’s Mitchell Park Marina. So Steadfast headed back out of Stirling Harbor, around the corner and slipped into Mitchell Park, right in the middle of downtown Greenport. This put her just one pier away from the famous Preston’s Marine Supplies and a block down from the well-stocked Greenport IGA supermarket. A major re-provisioning then ensued.

Preston’s may be one of the last waterfront chandleries on the East Coast.

This was just Thursday, keep in mind, but things were hopping on Front Street. Sidewalks filled on both sides with couples and families window-shopping, weighing dining options or enjoying a cone of ice cream. Likewise up Main and its array of shops and cafes including 1943 Pizza Bar, where the crew secured a front row seat in front of the wood-fired brick oven. This allowed full appreciation of the pas de trois performed by the salad boy and two chefs shuffling pies and sides in, around and out of the oven. Most entertaining.

Bob leads the brick-oven ballet at “1943.”

The same may be said for Greenport, too. She’s an interesting blend of a commercial waterfront, a big plus for boaters, and the mostly middle-class neighborhoods a few blocks away where the larger Victorian-era homes are reminiscent of Cape May, perhaps.

The ubiquitous cedar shake of New England is not seen here. Nor will one hear Joe and Dave on “The Shaw’s W-E-E-I Red Sox Radio Network” (given the Sox’ atrocious play of late, this may be a blessing). And there’s a faster beat on the street, a rhythm much different from Stonington, East “G,” Wickford or Dutch.

With the only mast among so many slips, Steadfast felt somewhat alone at Mitchell Marina.

But still fun and, without a doubt, well worth the visit.

Steadfast out.

Tuesday, 19 August

The Coast Guard Station at Watch Hill is easy to spot.

So, what does one say about Stonington, Connecticut, that has been said already about other towns and villages along the way? Hmmm. Let’s think about it. First, there’s the matter of getting there.

Uniform of the day was shorts and tees!

After four nights at Block Island—more than planned but never enough—the day was perfect for crossing the 13 nautical miles to Watch Hill, the extreme southwest corner of Rhode Island and the last of the Ocean State to be seen this trip. The water was fairly flat with just a hint of a southeast swell and, once out of Great Salt Pond, the easterly wind was enough to coax out all the canvas, Steadfast moving along at about 4 knots on a heading of 310 magnetic.

A large part of that $17MM no doubt is in the rip-rap.

Before reaching Watch Hill Passage, it became a motor sail but that was okay. It was still a splendid day with enough sun to peel away several layers of long sleeves, etc.  Steering to Watch Hill is fun, too.  It’s always been easy to spot the Coast Guard Station right at the point and the hotel up on the hill.  Now country singer Taylor Swift has made it even easier with the addition of a $17-million summer home just east of the lighthouse.   Once through the passage, Steadfast moved into Fisher Island Sound, rounded Napatree Point and motored through the breakwaters into Stonington Harbor. After a total of 17.2 miles for the day, she tucked into the harbor’s quiet northeast corner near Dodson Boatyard.

There followed the requisite stroll along—yes, what else?—Water Street and “downtown” Stonington. Dodson anchors the north end of Water which crests a block away at the Town Library then runs south down the grade to Stonington Point. There are three or four places to eat, a few fashionable shops, Dime Bank, Town Commons, Tom’s News & General Store and that’s about it. No place to provision, although Tom’s does carry a few staples and canned goods. But there is another “oh, wow!” collection of homes from the early 1800s and a few even from before the Revolution.

It must’ve been fun to watch this girl be moved in 1840!

Squeezed in among several of those, a hundred yards back from the point, is a short, squat granite lighthouse, impressive for both its construction and location. Despite foot-thick walls, it took such a beating at the tip of the point, it was moved in 1840 those hundred yards northward to where it stands today. Less than 30 years later, it was decommissioned and now stands all but hidden among stately old homes.

Dr. Holmes enjoyed his new home for less than 4 years.

A few blocks up Main, where stand many of the homes built by whaling ship masters and merchants who made their fortunes in the China trade. Also there is the 1787 home—briefly—of Silas Holmes, a physician who went to Block Island “on an errand of mercy in 1791” and drowned on the return. (See, that crossing from Block Island Sound is not to be taken lightly!)

The harbor, meantime, is home to its own impressive collection, a fleet that includes examples of Amel and Alerion, Hinckley and Hallberg-Rassy, Mason, Oyster, Valiant and virtually every other high-end boatbuilder. (And for at least one more night, of the Hutchins Company.)

So, what to say about Stonington? She’s lovely, with tidy homes on narrow streets that seem all to lead to the water. There’s a lot a sailor could like here, the harbor deep, easy to enter and fairly well protected. And right on the pier, the Dogwatch Café, chosen by Wight Vodka “One of the Top 10 Yacht Bars in the World!”

The Dogwatch offers seating inside, outside and at the Dog Pound on the pier.

Wight Vodka’s credentials are unknown. Likewise the criteria for selection among the world’s top ten. But the fried clams rank among the best sampled so far, of that it is certain.

Steadfast out.

Sunday, 17 August

Sailed to Block Island on Friday.

Hoped to get a mooring, while the weekend away.

But there were none open. Was no good just hopin’.

So we dropped the hook and anchored that day.

Then over coffee next mornin’,

Boats started cruisin’ for moorin’s.

Trollin’, trollin’, trollin’ for a mooring.

Yes, that is a Goldie-mix along for the ride.

On the Eastern Shore, she’d be called a Drake Tail. Here, Aphrodite is just another pricey yacht.

Sung to the tune of “Proud Mary,” assuming a skipper feels like singing, this could well be the theme of the many who arrive at Block late in the day. The 500-plus (!) moorings in Great Salt Pond simply are not enough to accommodate all the boats that come here on a summer weekend. The 90 town rentals are most desirable; once secured, they’re good for as long as a person wants to stay and is willing to pay. But those are first come-first served, no reservations.

So, each morning, crews race their mostly-large boats in close quarters through the already crowded mooring field trying to snag that mooring one available ball before it’s taken by another boat. Unique to Great Salt Pond, this ranks as one of the more entertaining competitive “sports” on the water, i.e., assuming one is watching and not a participant. The level of stress among competitors soars to levels seldom seen beyond their respective board rooms.

For the record, Steadfast did weigh anchor, entered the early morning derby and “won” the highly coveted town mooring from which she now swings. This freed the crew for an afternoon trip ashore – long walk, late lunch, scoop of homemade ice cream and a few provisions.

Sorry to dash your hopes but Archimedes is not available for charter. It’s the principle.

Of course, for many, such activity is beneath them. No, I mean it is wa-a-a-a-y beneath them, like several stories. Such is the case with the 18 crew and untold numbers of guests aboard the 210’ super-yacht Archimedes owned by hedgefund founder James Simons. Simons’ estimated net worth exceeds $12.5-billion so he can afford to fill the 45,000 gallon fuel tank. Archimedes tied to the full length of the pier at Payne’s Marina.  One assumes Payne’s was pleased to have her.

Does sailing on Great Salt Pond make this a “pond yacht?”

And then there are the “old school” sailors. They don’t need no stinkin’ auxiliary to get in or out of the harbor. They SAIL! This, mind you, while moored boats swing in unpredictable arcs, crews swim off their sterns, kayakers and SUP’ers paddle and dinghies speed hither and yon.

And the “deal” is done: fresh baked calzone for dinner on board!  Good stuff.

And don’t forget the morning refrain of “Andi-AH-mo, an-dee-ah-MO!”  Aldo’s Bakery Boat peddles pastries and muffins around the harbor.  Evenings, they’re back with more plus fresh seafood, pizza and calzones (NOTE: the eggplant calzone is excellent).  Aldo’s one of those much-talked-about and well-loved waterfront joys–kind of like visiting Cuttyhunk–that simply must be experienced, as has been heard countless times.  Finally, this stop, the crew got to sample Aldo’s wares so check that one off the list.

Oh, the sun comes and goes. The wind blows or doesn’t. But Block Island never fails to entertain. For a boat junkie, there’s hardly a better place to be.

Steadfast out.

Friday, 15 August

Those who come to Salt Pond in summer often bring loads of toys.

Weekends begin on Friday. Well, maybe not where you are but at Block Island in mid-August, it may as well be Fourth of July in Annapolis. Great Salt Pond is packed. Town moorings, private moorings, even the anchorage is nearly wall-to-wall. There does not even appear to be room to land one more dinghy on the beach.

This is, as you may recall from an earlier dispatch, in marked contrast to Salt Pond in late June when half the 45 town moorings were vacant. But then, it is a short season up here and there are only a couple of weeks of it left. So it makes sense that Block would be busy before noon Friday.

The 1807 brick light tower at Point Judith stands at the southwestern tip of Narragansett Bay.

Block Island’s North Light, built in 1867, looks from a distance a lot like a church or schoolhouse.

That’s when Steadfast arrived to claim a spot among the dozens already anchored at that hour in the northeast corner of the harbor. She’d left Wickford Cove about 0630, headed under the Jamestown Bridge and, passing Point Judith to the west, bid farewell to Narragansett Bay. It had been a memorable week, sailing the Bay, letting the wind dictate the day’s destination, but it was time to move a bit farther west.

So once past the Point, she turned to a heading of 230 magnetic, North Light came into view before 1100 and she finished the nearly 29 nautical at an average speed of 5.6 knots. The southerly swell was two feet, the eight-to-10-knot westerly enough to just ripple the surface, and with plenty of sun it was a lovely crossing.

UV skin damage has not been an issue this summer.

Now, about that sun: do not be concerned about overexposure aboard Steadfast. Great care was taken today, as it has been throughout this trip, to employ sunblock of the highest possible SPF rating. Several layers of it, in fact. This is due far less to some subliminal warning from Mother or the Center for Disease Control than it is to the fact that it is VIKING COLD up here! Sheeeeesh! It was 61-degrees when we weighed anchor this morning. Accu-Guess alleges that it’s now 75 but that’s a tough sell aboard this boat. We ain’t buyin’ it.

The good news is that sunburn has not been an issue. And regardless of how many layers one wears, it remains beautiful here, a photo-op whatever way one turns. That’s especially true on Block where the weekends begin on Friday.

Steadast out.

Jiggers’ “new” diner opened in 1950.

Thursday, 14 August

The wind being what it is today, the itinerary will be brief, a short 8-mile reach back down the Bay to Wickford. Tucked up in Wickford Cove, Steadfast will be sheltered from the westerly forecast to gust into the 20s. If it lays down some overnight, as predicted, there’d still be plenty for a nice sail over to Block Island tomorrow.

Today, though, there was time for a leisurely cup o’ Joe and—for some—a vigorous run up and down the hills of East “G” before strolling up Main for a hearty breakfast at Jiggers Hill & Harbor Diner. “Hearty” ‘cause that’s the only way they serve it at Jiggers.

Once upon a time, there were diners like this all over New England and some elsewhere on the East Coast. The Worcester Lunch Car and Carriage Manufacturing Company built more than 600 over a span of 51 years.

There’s a flat-screen TV but not much else has changed in sixty-four years. Jiggers remains the classic “Worcester Diner” all the way.

Walk up three brick stairs from the sidewalk and step back to 1950. That’s the year Worcester delivered #826 to this spot on Main Street, replacing the diner the family first opened in 1919.

Johnny Cakes: gotta have ’em!

As with so many Worcester Diners, the formica-topped counter runs the length of the right side fronted by chrome stools upholstered in red leatherette. Four-inch ceramic tile wraps the counter base and covers the wall behind the grill and ice chests. Wood booths finished in cherry stand down the left side. There’s “Worcester Diner” clock on the wall that still keeps the time.

Jiggers’ menu features local products so breakfast was full-on Ro-Dye-Lan-style. A cuppla Kenyon’s Johnny Cakes, two-ovah-reezy, a side a swee-pa-tay-ta hash and Calise Bakery raisin bread toast. A certain Kentucky native you may know couldn’t resist getting a bottle of Yacht Club (the “official RI soda”) Birch Beer for later.

Gulls never miss an opportunity for a free meal.

The sail was good, too.  Leaving East G shortly after noon, a flock of gulls was seen swarming behind a seine netter for a late lunch.  Good for them.

Aboard Steadfast, it would be a while before anyone thought about eating. Jiggers is not so much a diner as a living museum. Whatever you call it, it definitely is an experience.

Signs in East G make maw sense if ya speke Ro-Dye-Lan-dees.

And to think: if the wind hadn’t piped up, it might’ve been missed.

Steadfast out.