Capsized the boat!
June 1, Sea Bright, Carriage House Marina
I left the inlet knowing that the winds would reach 25 miles per hour in the afternoon. It was 8 and I had time to reach my exit point just before Sandy Hook. I chose to go over land to avoid going around Sandy Hook since the campground was on the west side quite close to the bottom. I had identified three different exit points leading to the inner waters. The first was the least favorable since it entailed going half a mile over land to reach a finger of water that would lead to the larger waterway. I was the closest and I put the coordinates in my GPS in case things got hairy on the ocean. The second exit was two miles further. That exit required a passage over the sea wall on a staircase: sure to be private. The last exit, my real objective, was another two miles away. I led to a parking lot with an opening on the sea wall. The parking lot was in front of another one that had a ramp on that led to the main waterway.
As I got to the ocean, the swell was quite noticeable. Bluefish jumped all over the place and there were quite a few fishermen. I had a moderate wind on my back. By 10, the swell and the waves were reaching 2 to 4 feet. At 11, the waves were 3 to 4 feet with the occasional set of waves of 4 to 6 feet. Since the current was going against the wind, these waves were quite steep and made my life miserable. I was being propelled forward and I was losing control from time to time. At around 11:30, the wind had reached 20 miles per hour with frequent gusts close to 30. I reefed a bit but it was the waves that were troublesome.
The waves were now breaking over my boat from the back every few minutes. I had to steer looking behind me to avoid capsizing. At 12 it was quite clear that I was now aiming for the first exit. It was only a mile away but not close enough. I made my way close to shore the waves got even steeper. I had stowed everything inside the boat and double wrapped the rest of my gear. I was ready for a trip in the drink. I rolled all of my sail and prepared to demast. I made a sea anchor with my seat. I was seeing people on the beach. I was at the seawall opening and I could see the electric polls indicating the street I was looking for.
I never made it to the breakers. The wave that capsized me never broke. My boat got propelled forward, the tip of the boat dug deep. I jumped in the water to use my body as a counter weight and a sea anchor. I was bear hugging the back of the boat. I flew in the air like a rag doll. Soon the mast went in. I landed on the bottom of the boat. The mast touched the bottom and the two outrigger pins broke at the same time. Even with the tramps, the outriggers were pulled back. One of the tramps plastic snaps broke under the pressure.
It was not difficult at all the put the boat back up. I grabbed the rope with my three dry bags and put them in the boat while a smaller set was now breaking on me. I tugged at the boat and soon touched the ground. I somehow got out of the beach breaks without further spectacle but I swear I had to deploy the strength of a line backer to do it and it was ugly. Had I not been able to pull out before the next large set I think the boat would have sustained a lot of damage. Fortunately for me, since the wind was from the south east, the waves were coming at an angle.
From shore, I studied the waves coming in and the breakers and concluded that the only way I could have made it would have been by rushing in and being very, very lucky. The correct way would have been to use the mast and outrigger all tied together in a big bundle, swim in and tug the whole mess with a rope, perhaps with the help of the people on the beach.
Since the boat was sure to dig in and flip before even getting to the beach break, I could not see any pretty alternatives other than using a huge sea anchor to make it right side up to the breakers. Once there it would have been a very unfortunate moment for the boat since it could not have escaped the beach break fast enough to avoid getting pounded to nothingness.
Once on the beach I got offered a bagel and water. Had I had a hat I could have made a bit of change for the spectacle I had just offered. A bunch of guys spending a few hours on the beach while waiting for a Fish concert helped me take my boat off the beach.
My ordeal was not over. The sun baked me good. I had to haul my gear on the sidewalk for half a mile. I was covered in sweat. I moved one pile of gear, then another, then pulled the boat, over and over again. I got to the “water”. It stank pretty bad since it was right next to a water treatment plant. It looked like a puddle and I had to cross 20 yards of tall and dense vegetation to get to it. I sure could have used a machete. Once I got the hull to the water I noticed that I was standing in deep black goo. Surely this was what was left of human wastes. It stank like a neglected porter potty. I was covered in cuts from the brush. I noticed poison ivy. Hoped I did not get any of its sap on me. By the time I put the boat together and repaired to two outrigger pins I was quite presentable and the boat was covered in black mud and everything was squeaky from all the sand that had made its way in every part of the boat. The rudder would not move without a bit of help from my paddle. I loosened it enough to put it in the water.
I was worried that there would not be enough water to get away from the water treatment plant. I imagined myself stuck in the much a few yards away; looking like quite the fool. Providence got pity and there was enough water for me to make it to the waterway. I stopped at the first docks I encountered and hose myself and the boat.
I saw a Carriage House Marina a little further. I was still aiming for the campground at the base of Sandy Hook but I wanted to ask about the region and consult with local on strategies and timing to cross the bay.
I met Lance, the owner, and he told me that I would not make it against the incoming tide that evening. He said it was no problem if I stayed at his marina and offered a boat to stay in since there were thunderstorms in the forecast; as if the crazy wind was not enough.
He explained that at around 11 the tides would be going out, that I could ride it to the tip of Sandy Hook. I would have to stay away from the very tip to avoid getting taken out to sea. I would then be able to buck the remainder of the ebb current to make it close to the Verazano Bridge in time to the flood. Piece of cake he explained.
I stuffed myself with pizza and went to bed.
Point Pleasant
May 31, Point Pleasant
I really like New Jersey. Everyone has been so helpful and welcoming. I left the Frazier’s dock as they were themselves leaving for Philadelphia. I made it about 200 yards to the mouth of the canal. It was impassable. The current pas ripping towards me, so I went to the marina right next to it. The owner of the Bay Head Marina said it was fine to leave my boat at the dock and I felt like staying an extra day in Point Pleasant. I got to the street to get a cab to the Atlantic Motel. There I met Kay. She offered to take me there and then invited me to stay at her house instead of going to the hotel. New Jersey was getting on my good side just about then. Kay gave me the third floor of the immense house. The family cannot fill the two first floors it seems. Again the house was splendid. My floor had great furniture and the bathroom was out of a magazine.
Point Pleasant Beach
Later in the day, while reading the comments people left on my blog, I had noticed a comment from John Durria. He’s the owner of Jersey Paddlers (jerseypaddlers.com). He says to give him a call if I need information on New Jersey. I wrote back saying thanks but I was leaving New Jersey. I didn’t give this a second thought until Kay told me the shop was on the corner. I met John an hour after leaving the message.
I had a question about the canal; about how to get through it. The answer was that it was illegal for me to go through. Fortunately, John towed me thus avoiding trouble with the police. The canal did have incredibly strong currents; some standing waves would have been surfable towards the end. John invited me to the marina and gave me a few contacts useful for my passage in the NY harbor region.
Curious marketing for a steak house
May 27, 28 Beach Haven
I stayed put while the wind blew hard. I enjoyed the town and the dock life. Marina life is quite interesting since people from all over the place pass by. The residents travel without moving.
May 30, Point Pleasant
For days the wind came from the south. The day I decide to leave it turns to the north. I slowly pedaled against the wind savoring the irony. I had plenty of time to savor. Barnagat inlet took me hours to pass. Eventually the wind settled more to my side and I was able to maintain over 4 mile per hour if I pedaled hard.
I covered 36 miles in those conditions before getting to the canal that would lead me to the last inlet before New York. Unfortunately the current was in my face. I asked a man on a dock what he knew about the canal and he proposed that I stay at his place.
In the state I was, it was no wonder I would agree to such a proposition. The house was straight out of a Coastal Living magazine. I was given the third floor. We drank great Pinot Noir from the Sonoma Valley. The Fraziers had a nice wooden power boat on their dock and own a large sailboat from the beginning of the century. They had plenty of sailing stories so we got along very well.
Sure beats camping!
Ocean City to Beach Haven
May 26, Ocean City to Beach Haven
I walked my big bags from the Pavilion Motel all the way to the dock of the foreclosed restaurant where I left my boat. I was on my way at around 8. Getting to Atlantic City was a lot more work than I expected because of all the turns and small canals.
The intracoastal inside Atlantic City stank of raw sewage and the houses along the canal sure said a lot about city corruption. There is no way that a building inspector would have allowed any of the buildings to be built so poorly. The roofs sagged and you had to look hard to find a house that stoop straight or two houses with parallel walls. The roof of a brand new condo project was already in bad shape. Some of the tiles were missing and the roof line was not straight at all. I don’t know how the construction crews work but they sure should change their carpenters.
Maybe they should tell the “connected” cousin who thinks he’s a big time contractor that it’s not working out. It would be less work than intimidating or bribing the city inspectors. I’m sure it would be more efficient and I would not have to look at these barely standing bungalows that look like they’ve survived some sort of disaster. Not letting sewage into the intracoastal would also improve the region’s real estate.
The fog enveloped the city. The buildings would appear slowly as large masses in the sky. An island with a lot of gigantic windmills marked the beginning of the marsh. The wind was strong and they turned quite fast. The noise coming from those windmills was minimal. I cannot imagine why people would complain about it. You do ear a whoosh when the blade passes if you are directly under it but it’s seriously gentle.
After Atlantic City is a long way across low lying islands, let’s call them marsh, and then you get to a large body of water that goes to an inlet. It’s large enough that I used my compass to get across but the low lying islands are more to blame than the actual crossing distance: only 3 miles.
I was getting quite wet as I passed the ocean swell in front of the inlet. Then it got totally flat and I had the wind at my back.
I made it to Beach Haven at around 4. I had stopped only to ask about Surf City, my initial target, but they invited me to stay there. They let me choose between two tent sites, one of them was on a boat, and living on a catamaran. Linda, the owner of the 32 foot cat let me have one of her quarters.
Linda, the mayor of Beach Haven Marina and host!
Atlantic City, poor town
May 25, Ocean City
I was not able to convince myself to get out of Ocean City. I ached all over and just felt generally tired. I decided to keep my room and visit Atlantic City.
The bus station was close to the hotel. I took the 209 and it cost me $3.10. I was expecting a 15 minute ride since Atlantic City is only 8 miles away. In reality it takes an hour and a half since the City does not want the buses to use the immediate bridge according to the driver of my bus. I guess they want to discourage the use of public transport; another oddity of Ocean City.
My impression of Atlantic City is that it’s run down. It compares favorably to other depressed areas like Bridgeport CT or North Hartford but not by far. The streets are filled with idle people hanging on edges of sidewalks or leaning on walls. The main street away from the board walk has dollar stores, discount stores and liquor stores. On the boardwalk where all the casinos are, paint is peeling and the billboards are empty. The empty billboards bestow quite an impression of poverty. It’s difficult to imagine that no business could use publicity the week before Memorial Day. I got out of Atlantic City quite fast. It did not feel safe and there was nothing to do unless I wanted to visit discount dollar stores.
On the boardwalk!
Ocean City and Atlantic City
May 24, Ocean City NJ
In the morning the wind was coming from the south east at 10 to 15 miles per hour. It was perfect for what I had in mind. The channels were so shallow that even my boat got stuck from time to time. I now knew why none of the powerboats were even considering using the intracoastal in NJ. Luc and his wife had been waiting a few days for conditions that would enable them to go outside with their 40 foot trawler. Two days prior they had to turn around.
I listened to the many radio stations from Atlantic and Ocean City while navigating the very complicated channels. I was aiming for Ocean City 27 miles away.
I could have pushed on to Atlantic City but I was too tired. I used the dock of a foreclosed restaurant. A local helped me and even drove me to the hotel. This was my fourth day on the water and I was exhausted. I wanted to go to a pub but oddly, this is a dry town. I’ll have to check into the history of that.
May 25, Ocean City
I was not able to convince myself to get out of Ocean City. I ached all over and just felt generally tired. I decided to keep my room and visit Atlantic City.
The bus station was close to the hotel. I took the 209 and it cost me $3.10. I was expecting a 15 minute ride since Atlantic City is only 8 miles away. In reality it takes an hour and a half since the City does not want the buses to use the immediate bridge according to the driver of my bus. I guess they want to discourage the use of public transport; another oddity of Ocean City.
My impression of Atlantic City is that it’s run down. It compares favorably to other depressed areas like Bridgeport CT or North Hartford but not by far. The streets are filled with idle people hanging on edges of sidewalks or leaning on walls. The main street away from the board walk has dollar stores, discount stores and liquor stores. On the boardwalk where all the casinos are, paint is peeling and the billboards are empty. The empty billboards bestows quite an impression of poverty. It’s difficult to imagine that no business could use publicity the week before Memorial Day. I got out of Atlantic City quite fast. It did not feel safe and there was nothing to do unless I wanted to visit discount dollar stores.
NJ at last
May 23, Cape May
Wind was moving my tent so badly that it woke me up. The forecast was for high winds with gale in the afternoon. With all the storms and tornadoes in the United States in the last few days, I was not reassured. Worse, these bad conditions extended at least five days and the long range forecast predicted much of the same for the next two weeks. I was either going to take a huge gamble and cross the Delaware in bad weather or I was going to have to wait perhaps two weeks or take the ferry and postpone the crossing for some other day.
My mind was not made up when I left the marina. It was raining hard and the winds were gusting to about 25 miles per hour. Crossing that day was not a good option. The wind was too strong. My hope was that it would die down.
During my passage in the last canal of the Virginia Pass the wind and the current were on my side. When I got to the Delaware River, the wind seemed manageable but I knew it would look that way because of the cover of the land.
Canal to Lewes
I sailed out a mile to check it out. I did not even make it one mile out before I knew it would be really stupid to attempt it that day. I knew I was not willing to wait two weeks so I headed for the ferry.
The ferry dock was about 7 feet above me. There was no way to get to the parking lot. Fortunately them dock guys lowered the boat ramp all the way to the water. They helped me get everything on land.
Too bad but I'm not crazy. I may return to do the crossing. The weather simply did not let me do it.
Once on the ferry, it was not long before I knew I had made the correct call. We barely made it to the end of the jetty before the wind increased to 30, then 40. The waves were just incredible. At first, the waves were a manageable 4 to 6 feet but pretty soon they were breaking all over the place and increased in size. Some of the waves were clearly larger than 8 feet. I would have been in trouble really, really fast. Half way in the crossing the gale started. I had to hide the camera since the spray would have ruined it.
Pictures fail to convey the conditions but trust me, it was bad.
At Cape May, there was a water access at the end of the lawn. I was in a thin channel but the wind was so hard I could barely leave a little square of sail. It was hard going all the way to the city marinas.
I went for the first marina on the left since I could not venture in the small bay with that wind. I had no way to use the wind since the mast was wobbling in all directions. The marina was closed but I met a Canadian that helped me find a spot in the bush were I was able to hide the boat and put my tent away from sight.
Luc and his wife took me to the pizza place. This time I did not spill anything on his wife.
