Wednesday & Thursday, 18 & 19 June

The sign says “Town of Milford” but, this evening at least, it might easily be confused with the fictional town of Bedford Falls. Couples stroll the sidewalk along Main Street. There’s a line in front of “Scoopy’s Ice Cream.” And a fife and drum corps rehearses on The Green.

The Milford Fife & Drum Corps practices on The Green, piping the “Star Spangled Banner” as a perfect coda to the day.

The sky had been right blue. Gorgeous sun. Fifteen out of the west, gusts to 20! A perfect day to head east up Long Island Sound.

That was yesterday. But instead of shoving off as planned, the day was devoured by one of those infamous 45-minute-boat-projects, as in, “Aw, we can knock this out in a half-hour, 45-minutes at the most.”

So it was the locker behind the stove was cleared, a teak batten removed, trim strip pried off the counter, and the white panel removed to reveal…not what was expected. Of course not. The Hutchins Company builds it right, builds to last.

The problem was of the owner’s making, having tampered with the track a few years back. The forward end recently began to lift. Not good, especially not when one wants to set a Genny in 15 knots out of the west.

The wind beckoned but bolts for the track were not yet accessible. There still was hull liner to peel back, a 2” wide tack strip to pull off and then, only then, might the bolts be replaced. At which point, it became clear there’d be no sailing this day.

A picturesque waterfall tumbles under Main Street feeding the stream that becomes Milford Harbor.

Instead, there was the half-mile walk to West Marine for nuts and bolts and parts for two other projects. There was a break for lunch and further mapping of strategy. And so it was new bolts were in—with stretching, twisting and bending to test a yogi—the track re-bedded, and the galley again good-to-go…at 1600, a mere seven-and-a-half hours after starting.

That project begat another, less demanding one, easy. But that repair revealed the need for yet another issue to be addressed. So…

Steadfast never got out of the slip Wednesday to take advantage of those ideal conditions. When she did leave Stamford today it was gloomy. Overcast. Light rain fell as it had off and on since not long after midnight. Not ideal but, undaunted, her intrepid crew shoved off anyway and was rewarded with a great day.

Once Steadfast was past the breakwater and submerged rocks called The Cows, she came left to a heading of 077 magnetic in hopes of making Milford some 30 miles away. An hour out of Stamford, a foul current became fair and she skipped along at 6-plus knots before 10 out of the so’west. Then 12, then more, enough to coax out the Genny and push speed-over-ground as high as 7-and-a-half, even while Little Red loafed along at just 2100 RPM!

The municipal pier at Milford Landing is close to downtown and a great value.

Rounding Stratford Point, the sun emerged from the clouds and, waddya know, up ahead was the channel to Milford Harbor where the breakwater becomes the gateway to the quaint New England towns of books and movies. And a short walk up to Main is rewarded with the first plate of fried whole-belly Ipswich clams in two years, every bit as delicious as remembered.

A Sam Adams Summer ale is the perfect complement to whole-belly Ipswich clams, a specialty of the Stone Bridge Inn on Main Street.

There’s a lot to like about Milford.  Granted, there’s no Jimmy Stewart. No Donna Reed. But Milford may as well be Bedford Falls.

Certainly, for those sailing into this little town on the Connecticut shore, “It’s A Wonderful Life”.

Steadfast out.

Tuesday, 17 June

Five knots has become the norm, the standard velocity at which life moves forward.  It’s been that way for a month.  There have been spurts, brief bursts of speed when Steadfast has taken her crew at six knots or more but basically, the waterborne world goes by at about the pace of an easy jog.

Until today.  Off the boat, up the pier at Harbor House Marina and into a sporty European touring machine, the world changes.  Dramatically.  We hurtle through space at an insane pace, approaching at times something in the 30-mile-an-hour range.  This is insane.  Other vehicles rush past at even greater speeds.  How can people DO this?

A fishing boat hurries to harbor, leaving behind the only ripples on placid Huntington Bay.

That question was far from mind as Steadfast weighed anchor Monday at mid-morning and slid over the glass like surface of Huntington Bay on a heading of 327 magnetic.  The old light off Shippan Point soon could be seen, making an easy target.  The channel’s well-marked, leading past the mooring field at Stamford Yacht Club and through the narrow gates that protect the river’s upper reaches.

Put to the test with Sandy, the hurricane gates rose to protect Downtown Stamford.

With decks “desalinated,” water tank topped-off, and laundry un-loaded, JB arrived and the thrilling ride ensued, through Stamford to her home in Darien.  Kerry grilled fresh salmon for a delicious dinner on the (stable) deck.  But after two delightful evenings, the luxury of sleeping on a still bed, then re-provisioning at Whole Foods and collecting mail-ordered items, it’s time again to get underway.

Carl and his staff “run a tight ship” at Harbor House Marina, one of the best values for dockage on the trip!

The bunk’s made, gear stowed and Steadfast is ready to resume her travels eastward.  Wednesday’s destination is yet to be determined but the pace of life will revert to the now familiar rhythm.

Five knots.

Steadfast out.

Sunday, 15 June

Life is a journey not a destination. Ralph Waldo Emerson

And so it is that Steadfast today journeyed, as it were, the grand total of about seven (7) miles eastward from Oyster Bay to Northport Harbor.

These essentially are side-by-side, separated only by the narrow Lloyd Neck. Having cast off shortly after 0900, she began tacking with a reef in the main and just a bit of the foresail into a 12-to-15-knot nor’westerly that chopped Oyster Bay into a two-to-three foot sea.  She did great, sailing comfortably on her lines.  (Jerry Lattell’s Deltaville crew did a nice job building that new Genny so Steadfast now can sail in conditions like this when she couldn’t in the past.)

Still, with the wind, seas and a foul current, it was after 1300 by the time Steadfast cleared the Neck and headed down into Huntington Bay. By then, those tacks already had totaled more than 12 nautical miles. But it was fun! Another day under sail, mostly, with Little Red used as she was designed, i.e., for auxiliary power getting in and out of harbor.

The four striped stacks are an unmistakable landmark for sailors seeking harbor at Northport and put on a flashing light show at night.

The anchorage tonight is off Duck Bluff, on Northport Harbor’s north shore. Busy, busy, busy on a Father’s Day Sunday afternoon but as quiet now, the sun setting behind the trees, as a Cove on Onancock Creek.

After a delightful sail, the sun provided a stunning close to the day at Duck Bluff.

NOAA’s forecast would have Red fully engaged tomorrow when Steadfast motors the seven miles across the Sound to Stamford for a couple of days.

So, not much to report tonight. Just another good day on the water which is, as Emerson reminds, part of the journey.

Steadfast out.

Saturday, Flag Day, 14 June

The meter on the diesel pump rolled on toward 500 gallons. This gave the skipper of the big Sea Ray time to ask, “So, is this your homeport?” gesturing to the pier on which we stood.

This seemed an odd question in as much as the skipper was looking at the transom whereon the hailing port is clearly displayed under the name Steadfast. Her homeport confirmed, the Sea Ray skipper appeared startled.

“So, you brought her up all the way from Virginia? Wow. And she’s how big?”

Granted, there are those moments when even the crew of Steadfast questions this undertaking, as during the approach today to Oyster Bay Harbor.

The drama of a passing thunderstorm is unmatched when viewed from the cockpit of a small boat.

It had all gone so well ‘til then, Steadfast underway shortly after 0900, motoring north out of Manhasset Bay, then hoisting sail and turning east to run up Long Island Sound a ways. After the storms that blew through last night, a twelve-knot nor’westerly had her moving along smartly at 5 or so, for awhile, and even as the wind laid-down a bit, it still was fun to finally sail for a change. She’s quite comfortable under sail and, though cool under a thick cover of clouds this morning, it was a delightful run up to Rocky Point and the turn into Oyster Bay.

With the wind dead aft, there just wasn’t enough to keep sails full with waves and wakes from passing traffic. And then, 17 miles from Port Wash, it happened.

Little Red sprang to life all right but with that tell-tale hollow sound in the exhaust pipe that says “I’m choking!” The water intake filter was clogged. That’s the first time this trip but experience tells us it won’t be the last.

Once a big wad of seaweed was pulled from the Perko, she was back under power and motoring past a seemingly unended array of vessels, mostly under sail, several engaged in a regatta that brought them back and forth across the channel.

Remarkable waterfront homes, like this one on Oyster Bay, seem to be prevalent along the shores of Long Island harbors.

The bay’s West Harbor was the intended anchorage for the night but two factors intervened. One, West Harbor was filled by 30-foot-plus racing sleds engaged in another regatta. And two, the northerly that had diminished earlier was up on her toes and honking down the bay. Eighteen and 20 knots more often than not. This made for an interesting time in-and-out of the fuel dock on the harbor’s south shore, at which point—nearly 1600 by then—the decision was made that the modest fee for a mooring was well worth the peace of mind for the evening.

The foretriangle of a classic yacht frames another handsome estate on Oyster Bay.

So here she sits, or rather bounces, sways and swings. This is a gorgeous harbor, Oyster Bay, and a busy place, too. Busier than we’d anticipated. There must be at least 150 moorings in front of this one marina, the few still vacant are filling fast and, so it seems, those here all want a ride ashore on the water taxi. And still more boats swing on moorings all over the bay.

Yep. We’re not in Hallieford anymore! But that, mates, is why we cast off in the first place. Hoist the flag and fly the colors proudly!

Steadfast out.

Thursday, 12 June

The sky is a gray scale, from a bright near-white through tiers of smoke-gray to the charcoal that threatens rain as it has all day. Boats continue to swing on their moorings, now facing so’east most often as the wind clocks to that quadrant. The dinghy keeps spashing in the short choppy sea that is the harbor of Port Washington, New York.

NOAA confirming the likelihood of brisk winds and more rain, Steadfast remains here today. But, being a boat, the day is far from wasted. There are tasks always and these consume the morning. Well, until a voice is heard hailing, “Ahoy, Steadfast!”

It’s Jimmy Flemings—remember, the water taxi cap’n?—in a role reversal, him hailing us instead of the other way around. He pulls alongside, grabs the gunwale and hands up a Ziploc bag with a book inside, “The Last of the Fairhaven Coasters.”

“This is a good story, about the sailing ships that used to go in and out of here. The last one went down in the storm of ’38. You’ll enjoy it. And when you’re done, just pass it on to another sailor.”

With that, he’s off but promises to return to take us ashore later. That trip starts at noon with a brisk walk up Main, then out Harbor Road to a fitness center called Power 10. Kate’s found on line that, for a small fee, we can join a circuit class at 1230. By 1300, at least one participant notes the irony that a fee is paid to feel this way. The price of fitness, one supposes.

Shortly after 1400, the walk begins back down Harbor, along Shore and out to Salvatore’s Coal Oven Pizzeria in ManorHaven. Brian reports that Sal’s related to the Grimaldi family which used to own Manhattan’s top-rated pizzeria. Zagat, he says, rated Sal’s the third-best in the US! The crew of Steadfast rates it well worth the walk.

Brian is happy to tell you the story about Sal, the Grimaldi’s and Coal Oven Fired Pizza.

From Sal’s, it’s three blocks to Manhasset Bay Marina and the water taxi back aboard Steadfast. Shortly before sunset—well, before the clouds got darker—horns sounded and the evening’s entertainment began as more than a dozen boats raced up and down the bay for this week’s Thursday Night Regatta.

Undeterred by looming clouds and the threat of rain, Thursday night’s regatta went off as planned.

Where’d the day go? In Port Washington, the answer’s easy. And with the promise of yet more rain tomorrow, she may be asked to supply answers again.

Steadfast out.

“…East winds 10 to 15 with gusts up to 20, seas around 4 feet.” NOAA Marine forecast, western Long Island Sound

Wednesday, 11 June

The boats harbored in Manhasset Bay this day bounce and swing to the changing wind, strain (the first-48-hours-free!) mooring pennants to their full length as if to say “NOAA’s not kidding this time.” Those pennants have been taut since 0200 this morning. Even seasoned boats with colors of Canada, England and the Netherlands stay in port, along with those from Hampton, Hallieford and other US ports of call. Add the threat of rain and the sound will be no fun today.

Manhasset Bay is a good harbor in the easterly that blew this day, testing the town moorings.

Ashore in Port Washington, however, it’s a different story. Certainly the 20 yellow town moorings (did I mention there’s no charge for the first 48 hours?) are an enticement to the budget-conscious cruiser. But there are many reasons to make this a destination and many are the stories to be heard here.

Jimmy’s stories add to the fun of the water taxi ride in North Hempstead.

The ride ashore in the water taxi gives Jimmy Flemings, the skipper, just time enough to talk about his family living on a 65-footer moored here when the hurricane hit in ’38.

“That was a big one, you know,” he says of a storm the lore of which remains as alive along these shores today as that of Sandy. “I was just three at the time but I can remember the rain comin’ in when the wind blew the top off the deck house. Of course she dragged but we came up safe in the lee of the south shore.”

Chief Bay Constable Nathan and his staff couldn’t be more helpful and professional and they have a pump-out boat for that essential service on request.  A couple of blocks up from Manhasset Bay Marina, Shore Road brings within range hardware stores (a stop for stove alcohol), a chandlery, two supermarkets, liquor stores, shops of all kinds and the full range of dining options (note: the Mexican menu at Mojito’s is worth the walk up the hill on Main).

Duck into Campbell’s Carpet and former sailor Skip Campbell is happy to talk about cruising the Sound. Daughter Kim notes “Did you hear that, Dad? They’re going for a year. You should do that. Or for the summer. Or a couple of weeks,” she says, waving her hands toward the door, smiling “Just go!”

The Swan Family preens at its home on the beach along Shore Drive.

There’s homemade ice cream to be had at the foot of Inspiration Wharf, beautiful views all around and, plenty of stories.

For those, it’s no strain at all. Just ask Jimmie.

Steadfast out.

Rita-the-Wonder-Dog is NOT making the trip with us. Historically, there’ve been very few rabbits or squirrels aboard Steadfast.  Nor is there much room for a spring-loaded terrier to run on a 27-foot boat.  So, amid all the turmoil that was the Richmond apartment as we sold, consigned, packed or stored everything that was there, we were blessed to find the perfect new home for Rita.  And based on this shot sent by her new Mom, a woman of good taste, it appears Rita has settled right in!

Rita, this Bud’s for YOU!  Cheers!

Tuesday, 10 June

Jimmy Crafaro turns momentarily from his work to address the customer seated five feet away, waiting his turn in the chair at Atlantic Waves.

“Yeah, but watcha gotta rememmba is dose people ah doin’ the best they can…,” says Jimmy.

His assessment of the current bureaucratic morass in New Jersey may be true but it does little to comfort the waiting man, one still trying to re-build his house from the damage done by Hurricane Sandy. Jimmy returns to his work, clipping, combing, gel-ing—yuck!—changing scissors, clipping some more, with the same vigor as his editorial.

This is the morning of what the weather indicates should be a lay-over day in Atlantic Highlands. There’s time for a trip to “Atlantic Waves”  and polishing bronze ports, working-out with the TRX, going ashore to provision at the market.  Then back aboard at midday, the fog gives signs of lifting, there’s a bright spot in the haze that looks a lot like sunlight and it’s decided: let’s make a run for it, up the East River.

At 1300, Eldridge’s Tide and Pilot Book confirmed there still would be time to catch the fair tide at The Battery and, thus, Hell Gate (a corruption of the Dutch word “hellegat,” meaning “heavy duty wash cycle on your Whirlpool.” More on that later.)

Fall back plans were discussed—as in, what to do if thunderstorms do materialize as forecast—Little Red responded to the call for action and Steadfast rounded the Atlantic Highlands breakwater at 1344.

The current wasn’t quite as advertised. Steadfast crabbed up the Chapel Hill South Channel before turning under the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge where speed-over-ground (SOG) jumped from 5.1 to 6.7 knots, a speed on which the day depended.

Lower Manhattan as seen from Buttermilk Channel approaching Governor’s Island.

While water speed stayed at about 5 knots or less, SOG climbed to 7.3 near Governor’s Island, then 8.4 under the Brooklyn Bridge, Little Red all the while turning a consistent 2300 revs-a-minute.

The Brooklyn Bridge remains one of the most stately and iconic images of New York City.

At Hell Gate, Steadfast rode the swirls and eddies that tried to twist her right, then left, and hit a top speed of 11.3. For 27 feet, that’s movin’.

The current stayed with her past College Point, Throgs Neck and up to the Stepping Stones where it finally slacked and she made her normal 5-to-5-and-a-half.

She turned into Manhassett Bay at 1915 hours, slid under the gaze of Gatsby-like estates and rides now, quietly, on a town mooring—free, we’re told—in the lovely harbor at Port Washington.

Like the summer “cottages” in Newport, stately mansions line the banks of Manhassett Bay.

Thirty-seven-nautical-miles, on the button, in just over six hours for an average of 6.3 knots.  That includes the two hours “crabbing” across the current in the Lower Bay.

And what of Jimmy Crafaro and his morning client, you ask?  It appears Jimmy is a fan of the Four Seasons.  When he’s done his work, your correspondent looks more like one of the “Jersey Boys,” an aging Bob Gaudio, perhaps, than your familiar skipper of Steadfast.

And this day, this day is a chart-topping number-one smash!

Steadfast out.

Sunday, 8 June

At 0915, roughly four hours after leaving Gardiner’s Basin in Atlantic City, Steadfast still followed a few hundred yards behind the same Catalina 42 that had moored behind her overnight. Both progressing at the same pace, about 5.6 knots, northward along the Jersey Shore. Coincidence? To find out, the call went out on channel 16 and the skipper of Gertie responded.

“We’re headed to Atlantic Highlands. That’s our home port.”

That also was where the crew of Steadfast hoped to be this evening, sometime before dark. The Highlands lying some 80 miles from the Atlantic City inlet, this seemed a somewhat ambitious undertaking. But the radiant dawn boded well, as did light so’westerly slipping over a two-foot southeast swell.

The glass monolith of the Revel Casino is brilliant in the light of the rising sun.

The 30-mile mark was passed at 1043 just east of Barnegat Inlet. Steadfast came left to a heading of 028 magnetic and stayed pretty much on that the rest of the way. By 1230, the wind backed to the so’east and built enough to coax out the 135 Genny, then the main. Gertie unfurled likewise and both boats picked up a knot or more.

With all sail set, the Catalina 42 Gertie leads the way up the Jersey Shore to Sandy Hook.

The GPS topped out at 7.2 with most readings in the upper 6s. Manasquan Inlet went by at 1415, more than an hour ahead of schedule. With Asbury Park abeam, the wind seemed to lay down some so sails were furled for the remainder of the run to Sandy Hook.

Still out front, Gertie showed the way through “False Sandy Hook Channel,” shaving precious minutes off the trip.  Then at Green 11, the turn to port yields a dramatic view, undiminished by haze.

Even hidden behind an evening haze, the skyline of Manhattan is unmistakable.

An hour later, at 1900, Steadfast cleared the breakwater at Atlantic Highlands, set the hook and, with an assist from Fred, the crew celebrated. Seventy-nine-point-nine nautical miles, Little Red running for 13 hours, 31 minutes at an average speed-over-ground of 5.9 knots.

Kate’s second straight day on the ocean proved memorable. It was great to have Gertie there for company, one of the few other vessels northbound this long day.  And yes, it was a Dark & Stormy night!

After working as hard as she did yesterday, Red welcomed Monday’s rain and drizzle that led to a lay-day to rest up before the sprint through NYC up the East River.

Steadfast out.

Saturday, 7 June

Atlantic City isn’t just casinos and gambling. People live and work here who have nothing to do with the world famous boardwalk. For instance, several of them crew on the 80-foot steel trawler that just motored out of Gardiner’s Basin to go fish the ocean off south Jersey.

Those aboard Steadfast are grateful that the wake of the slow moving trawler is negligible, unlike those created by the parade of sportfishing, go-fast and party boats that ignore the “No Wake” buoys on a stunningly sunny Saturday afternoon in June.

Steadfast slipped out of Utsch’s this morning at 0545 with Manasquan on the minds of her crew. Making Manasquan would put 80 more nautical miles in her wake and take a big chunk out of the run into Long Island Sound. But first, there was the matter of staying off the shoals in Cape May Harbor. Not to worry. Just follow the fleet of forty or more fishing boats racing to get lures in the water.

Get out of the way ’cause here they come, in an early start to the fishing grounds.

The red “2CM” was rounded at 0611 and Steadfast came left to a heading of 055 magnetic, running abeam of Hereford Inlet an hour later. From that point, the heading changed to 043 degrees for the rest of the morning ‘til she turned again to port to follow the channel to Absecon Inlet at the northern terminus of the Atlantic City Boardwalk. And that, after all, is this city’s focus, a fact abundantly clear as the tallest casinos come into view from as far as 30 miles on a clear day.

The Bally, Taj Mahal and Revel dominate the north end of A-C Boardwalk.

Abandoned Absecon Light remains the tallest in New Jersey and one of the oldest in the US.

But don’t look for the Absecon Lighthouse to guide your arrival.  When built in 1857, its first order Fresnel lens helped keep ships off the beach.  Its functionality has long since been compromised by the hotels that tower over her.

Steadfast remains focused on making many of the lovely harbors of Long Island Sound and beyond. This leg totaled 38.1 NM at an average speed over ground of 5.5 knots. She’ll be readied now for another early start tomorrow to perhaps get beyond Manasquan and round Sandy Hook, an 80-mile day if she can do it.

Tonight we’ll skip the casinos then play whatever hand may be dealt by wind and tide tomorrow.

Steadfast out.