Since this blog was started in the fall of 2010 I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long without a post. I apologize do you, my dear readers, for the delay. But the fact is that very little in the way of boating related activities took place during this time period.

Two work days, each very short. On the first, I tied up some loose ends to hold the canvas cover on and padded its chaffing points. On the second, I did some interior sandpaper work while charging the batteries. Without attention, over a long cold winter the expensive batteries will die.  My intention has been to charge the batteries of three friends’ boats as well, boats on which I have sailed this past summer: Miss Galsjm, Ohana and Hidden Hand. All three are located very near ILENE. The task is quite simple: I simply plug the four plugs, each leading from its boat to the shore power source into that source upon arrival, and remove the same plug and leave it lying there when I end my work day. But the powers that be at the Club where we store, motivated by legitimate fears of fires, have issued a new rule: each owner must be present while his or her boat is plugged in. I have appealed to them that in keeping with that Club’s longstanding rule that owners may employ contractors if the contractors have adequate liability insurance, and the fact that my insurance is  more than they require, I be allowed to serve as unpaid contractor to my friends for the purpose of plugging in and out. No response yet. The Club ought to try to make it easy for boaters if possible and if no harm is done.

Anyway, the second of the days I was with David of Hidden Hand but it was cold so we left after only 1.5 hours. Like I said, not much boat work.

Lene and I participated in two more of the now traditional wintry weekend hikes with Harlemites. The first time, we parked in Tarrytown, took the bus across what I still call the Tappan Zee Bridge, now named after the father of New York’s recent Governor, walked a little more than four miles east, back to our cars and had a late lunch in a Tarrytown restaurant. The walkway is wide and has several rest stops where we could sit and were protected from the wind by plexiglass walls. Though a sudden storm would have left us wet, that day was dry.

The other such hike was four miles, starting and ending at the F train subway stop deep under Roosevelt Island. We walked the perimeter of that long skinny island in the East River from about 45th  to 85th streets, with a lighthouse, under renovation at the North end and a monument to Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s “four freedoms” speech at the South end. Two of the freedoms are from our Bill of Rights, and the other two: freedoms —from fear and from want — we’re taken from FDR’s foreign and domestic policy initiatives. And again, a warming lunch at the end.

We had a visit from Greg and Wanda, our Nova Scotian sailing friends; I toured New York with them before leaving them to catsit for us for four days while we visited Lene’s brother and his family outside Austin Texas. Greg told me about a new product, ewincher2, which is a rechargeable, battery powered electric winch handle. Expensive but I bought it. If it works as promised, it will permit me to sail ILENE again next summer, after my rotator cuff injury heals through exercise — without re-injuring it again.

Thanksgiving in Sid and Jan’s house in NJ.

A birthday party for Birthday boy Tom flanked by his daughter, Marie, and to the right his son snd daughter-in-law, in an inauspicious but excellent restaurant also in NJ.

Another NJ dinner, with Bennett and Harriet celebrating her birthday at which we were introduced to her birthday present, Hunter, the sweetest most playful Abyssinian.

Our kitties relaxing at home.

I gave a brief slide lecture to the New York Map Society by Zoom about an 1850’s nautical chart of approaches through channels to Nafa Harbor on Loo Choo Island. It shows several natural “ranges” composed of two land marks, one higher and further from shore than the other, so that if they remain in line, one stop the other, you will not be hitting the rocks (not marked by buoys) on either side. The line showing the path is drawn on the chart leading to an artist’s sketch of the landscape the navigator will see if he or she is on course drawn on the chart at the end of the line. I called these “hill drawings” and asked my audience if they knew why the Navy Hydrographic Office removed them when reissuing updated versions of such charts 90 years later. None of them, nor I, know why this was done. Never heard of Nafa or Loo Choo? Neither had I. It is now called Hafa Harbor and the Island is Okinawa, which everyone has heard of. And just by accident, the talk was on December 7, 2021. The last slide was a screen shot of the Google Maps satellite view of the area, showing the manifold increase of development since 1850.
Several Broadway shows, the opening of an art gallery showing among others, the work of our friend Sheila. Three new movies in theaters. Lots of home repairs.

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Ten days of boat work ranging from two to five hourseach aggregating 34 hours of my time plus two of Lene’s and 1.5 by Ed Spalina

1. The help from Lene was while actually pouring the pink propylene glycol through funnels and hoses to replace water in pumps, hoses and the engine. This is a two-man (oops: person) job, one pouring from gallon bottles with the other turning on and off switches and examining to see that the discharge has changed from clear to pink. I could have gotten help from others but it was a great pleasure to have Ilene helping, because, it seem to me, that this little tiny bit of a “sweat equity” contribution makes her feel that the boat is hers.
2. We also discussed the possibility of cruising to the Abacos in the Bahamas next winter, 2022-23. Many optional corollary plans to consider and several contingencies could confound such a plan, but while Lene’s answer was not Yes, neither was it No.
3. This year I emptied the two water tanks, with the electric pump, then opened their tops and withdrew about three more gallons of fresh water from each with the dinghy- draining hand pump and dried the interiors with the chamois cloth. Thus I avoided pouring antifreeze or vodka into the tanks. I also emptied the grey water tanks.

Another complicated series of tasks related to the repair of the broken battcar; not an expensive repair ($50 for the repair kit) but time consuming and not completed yet. Several calls to the friendly and available tech at Harken after measurements of the inside and outside dimensions of the cars and locating him. Then following his instructions, I ordered the correct Harken rebuild kit from Defender. What I learned was that unbeknownst to me each car has two rather rectangular races of ball bearings, one on each side. The balls are held in place on one side by a hole through the side of the car, on the other side by the edges of the track itself and at the narrow ends of the rectangles by end caps. Here is the end of one car, without the end cap.

And with the end cap, held on by the two screws and Locktite.

The repair kit’s primary component is an eight inch long cheap blue plastic piece that emulates the track on which the cars ride. I will have to slide each car onto the track, use a groove in the tool to insert the ball bearings, and then, lining up the blue plastic tool, end-to-end with the black aluminum track, slide the loaded car off the tool and onto the track.

But before rebuilding, which I will do in the spring, I had to get off the end stopper at the bottom of the track to slide the cars off the bottom, and to do that — to gain access to the Phillips head bolts that hold the stopper to the mast, I had to remove the boom, temporarily. But my efforts to unscrew the bolts were unsuccessful, requiring me to call Ed Spalina who solved the problem in 90 minutes on ILENE. He whacked the back of the handle of a Phillips head screwdriver, hard, with a hammer, after placing the other end in the slot of each bolt. This seemed to reform the grooves of the slot but also, shocked the bolt’s threads, loosening the grip that 22 years of exposure had caused. Still, even with the end piece removed, the cars could not get off the track until the bottom six of the bolts holding the track to the mast were removed, allowing the track to be gently arced away from the mast so that the cars could come off. This picture shows the lower end of the track, with the end stop and several bolts removed.

The alternative would have been to drill out the eight rivets, four per side, shown in the above picture, that hold the boom to mast fitting to the mast, tap the holes for threads, and bolt that fitting back onto the mast in the spring.

Here are all the removed cars, a bag of ball bearings, the bolts and some of the hardware to secure the boom to the mast fitting. The repair kit includes enough ball bearings for one car plus some extras, to replace the few that got away in the removal process before I held the plastic bag below the bottom on the track to shake the rest of the balls into while removing the cars.

Another large block of time was devoted to scrubbing the rust off of much of the boat’s exterior stainless and applying a coat of paste wax, though David expressed the view that stainless steel should not be waxed. So now, over the years, I’ve “benefitted“ from diametrically opposite advice. “Stainless” steel means steel that stains, I.e., rusts “less.”
Used A nasty acid product to clean the brown organic stain from above the ninety foot water line. Left side is after, right side is before.

Then I rigged the frame for the canvas cover, shown below, from bow to stern.

The cover got on immediately afte I hosed all the leaves and berries off the deck, and, on the last day, I borrowed David’s taller ladder to truss up the bow, added padding at the chafe points, tied the cover down snugly with under -the-hull lines and picked up all the remaining leaves that blew on during the installation. ILENE is now ready for winter, and I can take my time doing many chores.

But all was not work. Lene and I enjoyed a delicious dinner at the home of Harlemites Bennett and Harriett, and the first two of the Club’s winter hikes, though the weather is still not very wintery. The first was in Pelham Bay Park, along the water to a view of New Rochelle followed by lunch at the Club.

The second involved a round trip ferry ride from the battery in Manhattan to Staten Island, where we first had a huge lunch at Pier 64 Restaurant,

followed by a two hour lecture at the National Lighthouse Museum about the training, work, responsibilities and compensation of the local pilots, the men and women who go aboard and advise the captains of large vessels during the 18 mile portion of their ocean voyages between Ambrose light and their docks.

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The final sail was a pleasant 90 minutes of good wind, with Bennett, Larry and Harris, and consisted of Ohana’s delivery from the Harlem back to the Hueguenot. We went the long way round, south of David and Huckleberry Islands and under the Glen Island bridge, whose female tender was very prompt. A few days later, on October 21, Bennett returned the favor but it was not as nice a day and we were under time pressure to arrive by 11:30 so we motored all the way, using the short cut, the western entrance to the Huegenot, going in on the west side of Glen Island.
That same day as we delivered ILENE we stripped off the small jib and AFTER ILENE WAS HAULED I moved that small sail from the deck into the SUV’s trunk and David of “Hidden Hand,” who came over the same day, helped me carry it to the Harlem’s ballroom floor and fold it.
On another day a combination of a) the high tide of the lunar cycle, b) strong easterly winds in the Sound and c) global warming caused flooding of the grounds of the Harlem, though no damage to the clubhouse itself, about two feet higher.

The first four work days of the winter season were largely devoted to the removal of sails and numerous lines, antennae and blocks and scrubbing fish guts off ILENE’s topsides. With less boats out IN the mooring FIELD, the gulls chose ILENE as their favorite not-so-fine dining establishment. The next picture shows a small mostly cleaned off spot at the left (starboard side) but the mess before cleaning on the port side.

With help from several friends all three sails have been stripped, transported, folded and stored in the Harlem locker and the Canvas winter covers removed from the locker and placed on board.
We also had two Other Days. On one I helped Bennett sand down, prime and paint some scruffy areas on Ohana’s binnacle. The other was devoted to the Club with a work party during the day and a membership meeting in the early evening. Here is about half of the crew, taking a break before the “free lunch” we all enjoy. These work parties have been a great way to make friends among the members. Not a burden but a pleasure.

My primary job was pulling weeds, some knee high and others entwined in the chain link fence that separates the back side of the Club property from City Island’s main drag, and threaten the trees there. I feared that my sore and tired right shoulder muscles would go into permanent fatal spasms as a result, but at the end of the day the only sore muscles were the ones in my thighs from all the stooping and picking — like picking cotton I suppose. In the afternoon, a man who had no good reason to do so, entrusted me with an electric Sawsall, with which I cut an old abandoned irreparably damaged plastic kayak into about a dozen pieces that would fit more compactly, with all those weeds, into the dumpster.

And the membership meeting was a pleasant, peaceful, businesslike one, a far cry from the sometimes nasty backbiting that crept into our meetings 25 years ago. We managed to get stronger during the last two years despite the pandemic. These good results came about through the tireless efforts and imaginative leadership of out elected leaders.

AND HOW ABOUT THIS SAILING SEASON?

Well, from launch on May 10 to haul on October 21, was only 164 days, inclusive.
These included fourteen Work Days, working on the sails, the batteries, loading stuff aboard and taking it off, plus oil change, winterizing the water maker, etc. There were also four Other days. But mostly, there were 105 Sail days. These all add up to 123 days, leaving 42 days in the season, about one quarter of them, that I was not involved with boating.

(Not the record, but better than 2020 when the season was nineteen days shorter and I ad 31 fewer sailing days.)

The sailing says divide as:  24 before the cruise, 71 during it and only 10 after we got back.

And in addition to 31 lay days during the cruise, we had eight Sail days that we lived aboard ILENE on our home mooring in Eastchester Bay with our cats but did not move the boat. These total 42 of the 105 sailing days, leaving only 63 when we moved a boat. And I said “a” boat because not all such sailing days were enjoyed on ILENE. In fact four were an Roy’s MISS GALSJM, (bringing her to the Harlem from Robinhood Cove in Maine with Roy and four others), five were day sails with Bennett and his friends on “Ohana”, one was on David’s “Hidden Hand” and one was with Rhoda and Lloyd on their “Jazz Sail”. A total of eleven underway sail days, meaning we moved ILENE on only 52 days.

During which we put 1008 nautical miles under ILENE’s keel (902 of them during the cruise) and 141 hours on her Yanmar diesel. An estimated 30 of those engine hours were devoted to refrigeration on lay days while living aboard.

But it is the companions who make sailing fun. I sailed with 14 people on other people’s boats this season, and in with 27 on ILENE, a total of 42 souls plus Lene and the pussycats.

A good season. What pleasures will the winter provide? Stay tuned!

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In normal years the winds grow stronger in September and October. But so far in 2021 that has largely not been the case. So while I enjoyed my companions on each day sail, the winds have been less than stellar.

And the riddle of the mainsail batten slide has not yet been solved, though some progress has been made. The photo above shows the “stack” of black slides on the rail on the aft side of the mast. The smaller ones attach to the sail by a webbed strap. And the larger ones by a black plastic piece. The latter are needed to bear the weight and force of battens which give shape to the sail.
And it is one of the larger heavier ones that came off the track, and apart, being held, upside down (they swivel) by my friend in this next pic.

Harken now sells a newer model, in which the clevis and cotter pin connection has been replaced with a bolt and nut. And my contact there referred to ball bearings, that may have escaped. I will have to take this one off the sail, examine more closely and ask about older models.

First, a two hour circumnavigation of Hart Island with the Old Salts. John and David:

Janet:

And Clare.

I missed a picture of Sarah, but caught her the next time.

Next I sailed with Lloyd and Rhoda on their Catalina, “Jazz Sail”. We sailed almost all the way around City Island, to the north side of the low bridge, to fuel the boat. And again, I missed taking their picture.

Third was the best sail of the four, wind wise, with three friends, Darshan, Jose and John.

We were close hauled to the Whitestone Bridge and then broad reached back.

And the fourth sail was with the Old Salts again, aboard Bennett’s “Ohana”. It turned out to be the last Old Salts outing of the year because of my error in not checking on a spare fuel filter and hence not having a usable engine the next Wednesday. This was more of a float than a sail; we motored out to the Sound seeking the 5-7 knots of wind that had been forecast, but even with the big colorful code zero sail aloft, we never achieved boat speed of more than one knot — and then the “wind” died — and we were floating out toward Block Island with the tide before turning on the diesel. But good company and having no fear of heeling we broke out the wine while underway. Here are Beau, Phillip and Bennett,

and Sarah, David and Anne.

In my idiosyncratic and highly personal system for categorizing days, a Sail day is any day that I sail (or float) or live aboard any boat. Any day that includes such activities with others is given the highest priority of Sail day. Next come the Work days, those spent working on ILENE but not sailing or living aboard her. And the lowest category is the Other days, involving work on other boats or at the club, meetings, social or cultural events and the like.

My Other day was planned as a work day, but There was very good wind and Bennett sang a siren song that I had not the will to resist: “Let’s sail”. So the W day became a S day. But hold on— it became an O day in the end with some repairs we did to Ohana: sanded primed and painted the shift lever box at the starboard side of the binnacle and mixed up and applied some two part epoxy to fill small holes in the topside gel coat to port.

The two W days, a total of seven hours, were very much a contrast between success and otherwise. My mission on the first was to filter out the water and transfer diesel fuel from the forward fuel tank to the aft one. By engine hours since the last fill up in New London, it was running low. But the “repaired” brass hand pump I intended to use, still did not work. So I put in the two gallons from the yellow Gerry can, closed the ports and put the cockpit sole back into place. And I bought a newer stronger, battery operated pump to do the job next time.

The other task was the oil change, but having drained the old black oil and removed the dirty filter, I found that I did not have the clean replacement filter needed so work stopped until the replacements I have since ordered arrive. So it was not total failure: progress was made — but neither task was completed. A third task also was not completed but resulted in a pleasant unanticipated prize. I took everything out of the two storage spaces behind the cabin’s starboard settees in a search for the rubber cover for the “fast idle” button on the gear shifter. I had found both the metal button and the cover and put the cover in a safe place, but that place was not one of the two I searched. The prize?  I had lost a box full of fuses about three years ago and had bought a few small new ones in the interim. But the lost box was in the searched place, atop a fuel hose so I had not found it until now. I better organized the rats nest, e.g., all small pieces of wood combined in one bag, all cherry bungs in another, etc.

Before the second work day, I had been filled with trepidation and regret that I had ruined the water maker by not flushing it often enough and would be unable to winterize it without paying Bryan, the friendly mechanic, to drive to City Island from Newport to do it for me as I had to do several years ago. The Spectra Ventura 150 is an expensive toy and I’d hate to lose it. But with careful preparation and reading, I got the job done with only two short free calls and a thank you text to Bryan. I had been losing sleep with anxiety, and shame and hence was elated. I also completed the other scheduled task of the day: scrubbing dried fish guts from the starboard midships topside, the seagulls’ chosen restaurant this year. I’ll never accuse our cats of being messy eaters again.

Ilene’s hauling date has been set for October 20 or 21.

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In prior years these statistical summaries have been published much sooner after the conclusion of the cruise; this one ended five weeks ago. All the data here is compiled from the blog and the ship’s log.

We left the Harlem mooring field on June 21 and returned on August 30 so it turned out to be a 71 day cruise, a bit shorter than planned. The plan, as in 2020, had been to visit Newfoundland but the Canadian border remained closed until almost the end of our cruise. Plan B became Maine, where we have been several times, but a severe infestation of the caterpillars of brown moths was found there this year and the hair of those moths create a severe poison ivy reaction which caused my Mate to scratch Maine. In the end this Plan C cruise focused on Massachusetts. We did not set out to visit every possible port in Massachusetts (as we had in Rhode Island two yearso ago), and there are far too many of them for us to strive for such a goal.

In fact, of the 71 days, 48 were in Massachusetts ports. The remaining 23 involved (a) 14 days before arriving in Massachusetts at Padanaram, (b) five days for a dip of ILENE’s keel into into the waters of New Hampshire between Newburyport and Gloucester MA, and (c) four days returning from our last Massachusetts port, Cuttyhunk.

We made 40 passages, visiting 34 different ports, three of them twice (Newport RI, New Bedford MA and Port Jefferson NY.) and moved the boat on 40 days, including three day sails with friends (from Newport RI, Hull MA and Vineyard Haven, on Martha’s Vineyard, MA).

We visited surprisingly few new ports this year, only six of them, and all of them in the Boston Harbor area: North Weymouth, Peddocks Island, Spectacle Island, Hull, Georges Island and Dorchester. All the others were old friends.

Total distance travelled (per the tracker on the Multi Function Display) was only 848 NM, so an average of 21 NM per travel day, ranging from the high of 59 NM from New London CT to Port Jefferson to a passage of only 1.5 NM from the dock in downtown Portsmouth NH to a mooring at the Portsmouth YC, closer to the mouth of the the Piscataqua River.

And subtracting the 40 movement days from the total of 71, means we enjoyed 31 lay days. These were in seventeen different ports, eleven with only one lay day in each, but six ports with multiple lay days, including six in Newport.

And about the sailing: well, we moved on 40 days, but the hours spent underway totaled only 149, or 3.7 hours per passage on average. And it is worse than that because only 60 hours were enjoyed sailing without the diesel; during the larger part of the underway hours, 89 hours or three fifth of them, we were either motoring or motor sailing. The statistics in this paragraph are approximations but I try to not sugarcoat the bitter pill. Still, there were several glorious sailing days, which makes the waiting for them worth it. To get more sailing in on a cruise we just have to go further away, like to Newfoundland next year.

I have also guesstimated the length of each of our dinghy trips, mostly short ones, and I added up the estimated minutes of each such ride and have concluded that we ran the outboard for only about six hours this season.

We spent only four nights on docks, one in the Marina of Sandwich MA which offers no moorings and is the only place to stay at the far end of the Cape Cod Canal, and three on a rickety public dock but giving great access to downtown Portsmouth, NH; we don’t like docks. I was surprised to learn that we spent only nine nights on our anchor; we could have done more anchoring. And that leaves 58 nights on moorings. But we only paid for 44 of those nights. In Port Jeff there are many vacant ones. In Hamburg Cove the owner never came by to collect. At North Cove in Old Saybrook, Manchester by the Sea and the Savin Hill YC in Dorchester MA they allow free guest moorings by policy; thank you! The last, 71st, night of the cruise, was on our own (free) mooring in the Harlem mooring field. But actually, a correction. “We” in this night-counting context, usually means Lene, the cats and I, because we live aboard. But on this cruise, while that count is accurate for ILENE, we live aboard creatures spent three nights in a hotel in Fairhaven, MA while hurricane Henri blew by.

And about our food, no not the individual delicacies, but where we ate, aboard vs. ashore. All meals were aboard ILENE (four with breakfast guests) except: four breakfasts (6% of the 71), thirteen lunches (18% of them) and twenty one dinners (30% of them), plus six coffees and three ice creams. So of 213 meals away from New York on this cruise we ate 175 of them (82% of them) aboard. I had thought we ate out more this year until I checked the blog and log. The most memorable meals (not that Lene and I do not enjoy each others’ company) were those shared with friends, and in their homes or on their boats: with Dave and Debra in Lyme Ct, with Hugh and Arlene in Scituate, with Meredith and Robert in Newport, with Jamie and Lauri and new friends ashore at Jim and Anne’s home and on Harry and Kati’s Saga in Manchester by the Sea, with Jeff, another Saga owner, in Salem, with Kyle and Mark both in a restaurant and in their home on Martha’s Vineyard, and with Ken and Yael in New Bedford. That is eight such social meals.

Now the book is closed on ILENE’s 2021 Cruise. Thanks for your interest.

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I just can’t get as excited about a day where we end up where we started, but still it’s great to be out on the water and we get to sail with friends rather than kittie cats.
1. Lene and two other actresses, Elaine and Andrea, joined me for the afternoon, followed by dinner at the club. The remaining four days my guests included men who were a big help to my sore right arm providing winch grinding assistance. All five trips are in local waters where we are constrained my land masses requiring various tacks and gybes, resulting in reticence to use the Genoa. Most of the photos are taken after the sail, on the launch or at the club, because the Bimini, with its blessed protection from the sun and rain, also cuts of the light.

Next came a new friend, Samuel, for the longest sail in this time period, five and a half hours. We traversed Hart Island Sound, penetrated deep into both Manhasset and Little Neck Bays, via the Kings Point Channel, and got to the shadow of the Whitestone Bridge before heading back to the mooring. Dinner after made it a full day.

The Old Salts came out on Wednesday afternoon after lunch, six souls plus me, and we were underway for 2 hours. Sadly, my photographer self was asleep at the switch, but you have seen pictures of most of them from prior years.

Sail four of this period was with Julian and David, new friends. David had sailing experience and Both men took the helm. This day the winds were quite light and we had to use the Genoa to get speed, touching 6.1 knots. Our course, and we avoided the places where land diminishes the wind, involved four tacks.

The work day was mostly involved with getting the dinghy and its outboard put away. The former is sitting on the seawall, inverted and deflated, awaiting help from the crew of volunteers who will help me get it situated on its sheet of plywood atop the dinghy rack. I got cheerfully volunteered help from launch operated John for the one short one minute task that I absolutely cannot do alone: lifting the outboard from vertical on the   transom of the floating dinghy to horizontal on the dock.  I also taught myself how to use the squelch and scan features of the cockpit VHF radio. Three and a half hours.

And the fifth sail was with Lene, Jeff (who has sailed with us for fifteen years, and A new friend, Jake. Jeff likes big winds and he got what he sough this year with gusts to 20 knots. We were close hauled in Hart Island Sound, beam reached to off Rye Harbor and had one long starboard tack back past Big Tom. And with single reefed main and small jib we were fast. Four tenths of an hour at the beginning and end of the four hour sail were engine hours.

And some damage: I do not yet know the cause or how to fix it. The luff (front vertical edge) of the mainsail is attached to a track attached to the aft edge of the mast by about a dozen “batt cars” and sliders. The topmost batt car, just below the head of the sail, came detached from the track!  I was able to squeeze it back on for the day but it came back off at the end of the day. I’ve got to take pictures and measurements and figure out how to replace or repair the attachment. The part was put onto its track in 1999 and has been exposed to the weather ever since. I think that Harken has moved on to a newer technology so replacement, if needed, may be a problem.

The season is not over yet; thank goodness!

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Faithful readers who await my traditional post-cruise statistical summarization please be patient.

These eleven days began with packing an amazing amount of stuff and transporting it and our furry felines back to our urban apartment. They also saw sorting through more than ten weeks of mail, observance of Rosh Hashonna, a five course dinner I cooked for nine the night before, a dinner with Bennett and Harriet of “Ohana” at their home, repairs to home and to car, and a visit by hurricane Ida to New York City with deadly torrential rain. The Club’s parking lot, see below, was flooded but not the clubhouse itself. Nor’easters do more harm with their strong, prolonged, unidirectional (rather than cyclonic) winds; they push the Atlantic Ocean into Long Island Sound from the east so fast that the water has no place to go except up^.

I also did about six hours of work on ILENE, mostly cleaning and measuring for replacement parts, on two work days.

And one sail day, with Lene and Marie and Tom, but it turned out to not be one. I congratulate the fortitude of my crew — no requests for adjournment, whining, or whimpering.
The launch got us to the boat just exactly before the rain started. Not heavy, but steady. We put up the clear plastic cockpit side enclosures (which had not been used at all this season or last) as well as the canvas dodger-bimini connecter. And then spent three pleasant hours in the cockpit eating the delicious lunch that Marie had prepared.

I’m thinking we have 5-6 weeks of day sailing left in this season.

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Once we got moving, we moved fast, covering 39, 54 and 37 NM in the final three passage days of this cruise. We was helped by NE winds, the opposite of the prevailing Southwesterlies, especially the first day.

That day we were underway 6.5 hours with only .6 engine hours, and 5/6th of them were due to lallygagging while exiting Mackerel Cove. Heading toward Point Judith with main and small jib on a very broad starboard reach, we were making 8 to 8.5 knots in big seas. Even set to the powerful sea state three, Auto was having trouble holding our course so I furled the jib. After Point Judith, we made the cowardly 270 degree tack to avoid having to jibe, putting the wind very broad on port. The wind direction helped us decide to enter Long Island Sound via Watch Hill Passage rather than The Race: steering twenty degrees further to the right, avoided a dead run.  We considered Stonington, but were making good time so next considered East Harbor and then Hay Harbor on Fishers Island. We had helpful tide. For a while we were on a dead run but the mainland of Rhode Island itself sheltered us a bit, the wind got lighter, the seas lower and we went a bit further to New London.

We took one of the sixteen moorings of the newish municipal Waterfront Park. It is right by the RR station which means a lot of noise for the grade crossing. Last time we were here we were the only boat and the adjacent solid concrete pier was temporarily converted into a stage for one of Shakespeare’s comedies that night. Now, a large clam bar restaurant is on the pier and a visiting rock band entertained its patrons. We were one of five boats and a large old semi-derelict schooner called “Prodigal Sun” was nearby. I chatted with a man who was using her to compete in a big money prize bluefish competition. The five I mentioned did not include the magnificent US Coast Guard ship “Eagle”Several restaurants were nearby and we dined at an American style place where dancing would be taking place later on.

Next morning the wind was still from the NE, but weaker so we had to motor the whole way, with some help from the wind. Exiting New London we passed one of her other famous residents, port to port. You can see sailors standing on her aft deck. Not much of her is above the waterline. We also passed The distinct three story cubical New London Ledge Light to port and the slender white column of New London Harbor Light to Starboard.  New London is very easy getting into and out of.

I like to look up the name, size, course and speed of nearby boats using the AIS feature displayed on the chart plotter. A boat about a mile on our port beam was named Sangaris. The only Sangaris I know is a sturdy seaworthy Amel owned of Craig and Cathy, of the Harlem, which they have cruised throughout the Mediterranean and Europe. We visited them in Florida in 2015 and they stayed a few nights in our apartment. A VHF hail confirmed and we resorted to cell phone communications. They had spent the night at Fishers Island and, like us, were headed for Port Jeff.

We got there first but a funny thing happened while we were trying to anchor.

With the anchor about twelve feet down, but not yet on the bottom, the windlass froze: no up and no down, just a click. I think I accidentally pushed both the up and the down button simultaneously.  My first thought was to get us unto one of the eighty vacant moorings on a Sunday evening and then to raise the anchor back on deck. We do have a second anchor, but I was not thinking of that. We used a line and the jib halyard winch on the mast to raise the anchor out of the water, but it came up backwards and needed help to twist facing right-side forward for its shackle to get lifted past the roller. Craig came rowing over in his dink, turned it and we were able to pull it the rest of the way back by hand. I would have started to think about how to fix it when we got back to the Harlem the next day. But Craig, an engineer who can fix anything, trouble shot the issue and the burned out fuse was located. No replacement fuse? No problem, let’s look for one not in use! And three inches away was the fuse for the former Lectrasan sewage treatment system that I removed about 15 years ago. It had nothing to protect, was moved to the electric circuit marked “windlass” and the windlass worked again.

In the morning we dinked over to Sangaris for a social call before the our 11:00 am tide based departure. It was pure motoring on the final day, directly into very light winds until Matinecock, where the course changes about twenty degrees to port and the main, which had been put up, was finally able to boost our speed. Cathy and Craig had a car at the Harlem and gave us the keys to use to drive into Manhattan to get our car. Then back to City Island for our last night of sleep aboard with the kitties.

Rest assured dear readers, this blog will be continued.

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Passage from New Bedford to Cuddyhunk, 14 NM, was all by Yanmar after a stop to fuel and water ILENE. Not a peak sailing experience for Yael, though different from her time with us in Casco Bay in 2013; this time she had the sensation of being on the open seas and in mist, briefly out of sight of land. This is Fort Rodham (no relation to Hillary Clinton) which we visited by Car with Ken. With winds from the west, we anchored outside Cuddyhunk, on its east side and dinked in. It is an unusual place. No cars, just golf carts. We visited both of its two stores: the small general food store and the souvenir store, where, with a bit of help from Uncle Roger, Yael scored a CUDDYHUNK T shirt — a conversation starter for her friends back in Israel. On the short walk up to the top of the island, we passed four adjacent buildings on the same side of the street: Historical Society, Town Hall, Library and School, with the church and parsonage opposite. The summit provides great views of Gay Head on Martha’s Vineyard named after the gay colors, red, of its cliffs. and of the Cuddyhunk.   Block Island and the tops of the towers of Newport’s bridge were not visible because of the haze. ILENE is the white speck on the right, anchored outside the Island Yael cooked our dinner with meat she had brought with her and experienced a cockpit shower under cover of darkness, and the other boat was quite far from us.

A calm night and then off to Newport, 25 NM away. The Yanmar continued to sound ragged so I was glad to have enough wind to motor sail, and after a few hours the wind grew strong enough that we were able to sail without the motor. And that finally gave Yael the feel of real sailing. We were making six knots, which is not a thrilling speed but gave her a taste. Rounding Brenton Reef and heading up into Narragansett Bay brought the wind back to our quarter and slower speed. We got a good mooring and started sightseeing. The International Tennis Hall of Fame , the Touro Synagogue (it was closed) plus galleries and some window shopping. Here’s a better picture of Yael and Aunt Lene But instead of public transportation, Yael’s brother, Mendy, who has sailed on ILENE many times, drove from New York and joined us for the night to drive her home the next day. Our cockpit dinner, after sundown, was memorable in the food, the company and the lighting. Mendy chose to sleep in the cockpit, where I have several times failed to get a good night’s sleep.
After blueberry/mango pancakes, we drove to the Cliff Walk, walked about a half hour on it. Relatively light winds deprived our visitors of the sight of the surf pounding on the rocks below. Then we toured the Vanderbilts’ “cottage”, The Breakers, a monument to conspicuous consumption in the gilded age of the 1890’s, before our niece and nephew drove home to Brooklyn.

We took off from the Newport mooring in the early afternoon headed for Mackerel Cove on Jamestown Island but the engine sounded even worse and I looked back and saw only tiny infrequent spurts of water coming from the exhaust pipe with the fumes. The heat alarm did not sound, but I knew this lack of water was bad for the engine so I shut it down and we sailed across the eastern passage of Narragansett Bay, very slowly,  at .9 to 1.7 knots against the tide, with only the small jib. We took a mooring at The Jamestown Boatyard. What to do? Mixing elbow? Impeller in cooling water pump? Blockage in the raw water strainer?  I tackled the strainer first, because it was easiest and it was the only area into which I had to look.  I found this plug of packed seaweed in the entrance to the raw water strainer, removed it, cleaned out the basket, put it all back together again, and the hum was restored. So we thanked the Boatyard for the hour’s use of their mooring and took off for Mackerel Cove with many small power boats but plenty of room to anchor in 14 feet or water. The bridge from the Island to western RI and the masts of many boats moored in Dutch Harbor on the west side of the island can be seen across the narrow strip of land at the NW end of Mackerel. The anchor light warned any other boats not to hit us, but all the smaller party boats left before dark and though a bit rolly, it was a calm cool night. But it was the night that Lene persuaded me to take her home sooner than planned.

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Because of New Bedford’s powerful “doors” that can close the 150 foot wide passage through its sea wall against hurricane storm surge, New Bedford seemed a good place to hole up when hurricane Henri was poking its way north and threatening to land any place between New York City and Boston. We scored the mooring next to the one on which we rode earlier this month at Pope’s Island Marina. Here is a view of ILENE from Pope’s Island with the sea gates in the background.

Tide slowed our crossing of Vineyard Sound but the current changed while we were in Woods Hole and was favorable for the crossing of Buzzards Bay. Here is Nobska Light at the SW corner of Cape Cod.  The 20 miles took about 3.5 hours. Again, all diesel, though I put out the Genoa, twice, with no effect.

On the mooring, we worked about four hours finalizing ILENE to face Henri.  Pulling the 55 pound Rocna up over the bow rail and lashing it to the deck to prevent its low hanging blade from chafing through the bridle.

The bridle was coated with rags at the chock, also as precaution against chafe.  The dink was lashed down to the deck athwartship, twice and secured fore and aft to the mast and anchor windlass. The club burgee and U.S. flag and its pole and other items that catch wind were removed.  The sails, dodger and Bimini were left up but the stack pack containing the main sail was lowered, compressed and trussed to provide a smaller sail area.

And then we packed cats, their food and litter, and all we would need for three nights away, and persuaded the launch operator to pick us up and take us to the very nearby Seaport Inn and Marina, about a half mile away by foot, less by water, where we holed up to weather the storm. That hotel is in Fairhaven, a historic town on the east bank of the Acushnet River, with New Bedford on its west bank; sort of like the relationship between Brooklyn and Manhattan, separated by the East River.

The storm made landfall on eastern Long Island and Stonington Connecticut, so we were spared the brunt of its wrath. The preparation and precaution were thus, in a sense, wasted energy; but better safe than sorry. Our insurance carrier would be happy to know of our efforts. The crew were not happy being locked in a room with us.

We ate at a variety of local restaurants, though many others were closed. The Black Whale earned its high price with excellent and imaginative preparations – we ate there twice. Fathoms, a sports bar on Pope’s Island, served simple tasty food: haddock and/or cod, baked or fried. Both of these places get their street cred by being owned by fishing boat captains, suggesting the freshest of seafood. We went to a Chinese Restaurant and a wonderful breakfast place.
The harbor was crowded with recreational sailors like us, and while normally a good portion of the huge commercial fishing fleet is at sea, they were all crowded in port, breasted out from each other. We only walked the coastal streets of Fairhaven, which appears to be a place with a low cost of living in historic homes mixed with commercial activity devoted almost totally to the sea: from a propeller shop to a marine insurance firm.

We devoted a huge amount of time, probably more than twelve hours, on planning for our time with niece Yael, who last sailed with us in Casco Bay, Maine, in 2013. What day she would come? How would she get to us — by train, bus, car, and ferry (and the schedules and prices of each)? What ports to visit with her and the mileage for each passage? We can do sixty NM in a day, but that’s not ideal for a young woman who wants also to enjoy the pleasures of the land as well. And how could she could get back to Brooklyn before the start of Sabbath on Friday evening? In the end, her father, Ken, drove her to New Bedford on Tuesday, August 24. But before they got here we restored ILENE. The only part of this work that I feared was lifting the heavy bulky outboard from the lazarette and placing it back onto the dink’s transom, without dropping it onto ILENE’s gelcoat or into the briny. This is what kept me awake the night before. In the event I asked a stranger, Chris, of “Deja Vu”, who was passing in his dink, for a hand, and it got done. Thanks again, Chris!

Once Ken and Yael arrived we hung out, toured the sea wall, had a less than good dinner at the Whalers Inn, provisioned, and settled in for the calm warm night. We plan to make passages on the next two days, of 14 and 30 NM, to Cuttyhunk and Newport, from which port, according to the current umpteenth plan, Yael will take public transportation back to New York City on Friday the 27th.

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