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!
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!
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!
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.
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.
May 21, Castaway campground
I crossed the Chincoteague Bay with an eastern wind right in my face. I had hoped for a west wind since that’s what was forecasted. I’d be lying if I said I was losing fate in the weather people: I lost it a while back on Molasses Key. On this trip I can honestly say that the weather people, especially NOAA, as been wrong more time that it would be statistically possible. I mean a monkey selecting the wind direction at random would probably have had it right more often by sheer chance.
Chincoteague Bay is a long lake with enough depth to sail just about anywhere. On the west side is a protected area where sand dunes on island create a barrier for the sea. There is absolutely no boat traffic. People on each side of the 20 mile long bay stay on their sides.
State line, first time I see such a thing.
I pushed east almost to Ocean City Maryland even though there was a state park with plenty of campsites. I had been trying to reach the park people for 5 days but no one ever answered or returned my calls. I spoke to the people from the conservation section to see if they could check on them to see if they hadn’t been taken out by zombies or aliens.
I checked into the most modern and well maintained campground I’ve ever seen. It was also more expensive than any hotel I’ve stayed at on this trip: 56$ for a tent site!
May 22, Bethany
I only planned to go 20 miles to another campground at the mouth of Indian Inlet. There was no ramp and a tall rock wall all along the edge. I had to tie up in a private marina inside a gated community; thanks for the slip Arturo. The campground itself was a patch of hard terrain, mostly gravel, next to a construction site. There were no trees and the ground was full of tracks, making it difficult to find a good place to put a tent. That campground truly sucked.
On the way to the campground, I met a group of retires on a pontoon. We talked along a long canal. They later invited me to diner. They picked me up at my campground. The seafood restaurant was really nice. Towards the end of the meal, I toppled a glass of red wine, spraying the women in front of me. She even had wine in her eyes. It was one of my finer moments. Now I wonder why people don’t invite me to the restaurant more often.
May 20 Chincoteague
I woke up in Quinby with a clear sense that I should get going. My stuff was spread out all over the place. The day before, I had worked on the boat. One of the elastics holding one of the outriggers had to be shortened. The compass had to be glued to the boat. The bungee holding the sail while sailing back wind was replaced. Most importantly, the centreboard was completely delaminated. I laminated it with 5 minute epoxy and created some protection from further damage.
I left the shore at 9 but it took me an hour and a half to get out of the bay because of the southern wind. Once I got out of the bay, I needed to monitor the GPS closely to find my way. I had to cross two large bays and there were a lot of twisted little canals between them. I did not get as far as fast as I wanted. By the time I got to the second large bay, it was already 3 in the afternoon. I still had close to 20 miles to go.
Unfortunately, not only was it late, the waterway post was missing and so was the waterway. Instead I faced a hundred yard of mud followed by a sand dune. The waterway had not been surveyed in 30 years and nature had decided that a sand dune would replace it.
30 years of waterway neglect
I set my boat in the mud and walked across the sand to see how far that barrier extended and more importantly, if the waterway resumed on the other side of this unfortunate obstacle. It took me 15 minutes to walk to the quicksand that led to the remainder of the waterway. I still had no way of knowing if the waterway continued a long or a short way beyond the next bend. I knew that moving the boat across this obstacle would take considerable time and energy.
I decided to go for it. There was no sense in waiting for the next high tide. It was obvious that this obstacle was dry as bone even though we had had record high tides two nights in a row. I was not going to turn around either.
I unclipped one outrigger; carried it 100 yards to some dry patch of ground. I undid the arms and the tramp; I carried those also. I then took the dry bags and carried them to another dry patch. It was obvious that I could not carry the boat a quarter mile without wheels. Installing them while the boat was stuck in the mud presented a challenge. The boat was full of stuff so I could not lift it and there was no water deep enough to put the wheels on. So I pushed the boat on its side to install the wheels. It worked great but the stuff that fell over was covered in mud.
I started pulling like a mule to move the boat through the mud. The wheels were not turning as much as dragging. They caked with mud to the point of becoming unrecognizable. My feet were slipping and I had to use my toes to try to get some grip in the mud. Getting to dryer land away from the worse mud took me about 15 minutes. I had done about 100 yards. I took the other outrigger off and took some more weight off the boat. I began a game of carrying one pile of gear a little further every time I took a break from pulling the boat in the mud. I gave myself an objective. I wanted to get that boat across before 5; in a hour. I had no idea how long it would take but at least it gave me an objective and it turned this nightmare into a game. By now I get my kicks where I can find them. Pretty soon I was running from pile to pile and pulling the boat in furious stretches. I got the hull to the beginning the water by 5 but I was truly across and set to go at 5:30. I was covered in mud and sweat.
I was surprised by how deep the waterway got. I barely touched bottom from there on. Unfortunately, the amount of twists and turns was unimaginable and time passed faster than the miles. By that time I knew I would not get to Chincoteague by daylight.
I was now seeing the NASA and NAVY missile testing facilities. Here the NAVY launches missiles at boats from to test defenses and NASA launches satellites.
It’s pretty remote and since the waterway is blocked there is no boat traffic at all. All those twists led to the Inlet of Chincoteague. By that time there was no light. I was so relieved to see that some buoy were illuminated I almost shouted. I thought I was all set to make it to the campground.
I got to the delta at the mouth of the inlet. My GPS showed that the campground was right in front of me: only a mile and a half. A storm was closing in so I hoped I would make it there fast. Unfortunately it was pitch black and I ran directly into an island. The GPS did not show the island. I turned right after walking the boat away from the island. By then I could not see a thing in the rain and I felt pretty disoriented. I went another 100 yard only to run into marsh. None of this was on the GPS map. I was in trouble.
During one of my short travels between obstacles, my baseball cap and frontal light fell the water. They were irretrievable.
Since my GPS was useless, I decided that I would go to the campground in a straight line and cross whatever land, marsh or mudflats in my way. I only had a mile to go. I would carry the boat if I needed to. Fortunately I only had to cross about 50 yards of marsh before finding enough water to make it to the marina.
It turned out that there was no campground, only a marina. I took my boat out of the water and pitched my tent in the parking lot behind my boat. I was very happy to be there.
I woke up and settled everything with the owner. I went for breakfast and managed to have someone pickup my stuff and my tent in a pickup. The marina owner was wonderful.
captain bobs marina
I stayed in Chincoteague for the day. Taking pictures and updating my blog. I used the internet connection at a dairy shop. I hate two huge strawberry sorbets in waffle cones, followed by coffee. Anyone interacting with me in the minutes that followed must have thought I was on some form of amphetamines.
Paul did an amazing two part video about us crossing the Chesapeake.This is the first part :
Now this is the video of Paul coming back in the worse weather imaginable (well not really but it was bad). Amazing :
This is a link to Paul’s blog
May 14, Norfolk
I agreed with Paul to cross the Chesapeake on Sunday, so I had to get to Norfolk on Saturday night. My plan was to go all the way to the State Park at the mouth of the Chesapeake. It was an ambitious 46 miles away from the North Landing Campground just at the border of the Virginia. The State Park was only 20 miles away but I had to go around the world’s largest military yard in the world and an enormous industrial area filled with large ships.
Machine gun crew with safety glasses during maintenance work
Nuclear submarine
Number 36... The buoy at mile zero of the intracoastal. A lot of people cheer here.
Oh yeah, welcome
Destroyer lurcking behind the welcome to Norfolk sign.
The industrial wasteland that is Norfolk is so ugly that it's pretty
BIG boat traffic; small kayak!
I was hoping to take advantage of the wind on my way to Norfolk but it barely made it inland. I got to Norfolk only at 4 and turned the corner of the Navy ships close to 7 with 20 miles to do to get to the State Park. Moreover, the wind and the waves were really hard and in my face. It soon became apparent that I would not make it. I made it outside the military zone and found a marina right as the military zone ended. People gave me a lift to Motel 8 and I was in heaven. My prospects for the night were not really good only minutes before. This is one instance when things just worked themselves out.
Bottle left for me next to my boat at the marina, nice gesture that made my day.
Paul came by the Motel and we went to the Thirsty Camel. A classy establishment were they gave me two plates of prime ribs because it was two for one. The band started playing Tequila Sunrise very loudly covering to dragster show on the tele. Paul really knows his classy restaurants.
May 15, Mackau island or Ghost Island on the other side of the Chesapeake
View of the Chesapeake from my Motel.
Paul woke up early and set sail towards me. He came at least 15 miles west to meet me before the crossing of the Chesapeake. I could barely believe it. I would not have to cross the Chesapeake on my own and Paul is as hardcore as they come. He sees no problem with 100 mile races through storms while I go out of my way to stay away from any sort of maritime excitements.
Paul, the Water Tribe enthousiast!
We started the crossing directly in front of my Hotel. Because of the diagonal path the Chesapeake was now a 20.4 mile affair. We had a light wind at our back and we sailed while talking. This was a very nice from my normal solitary days. No time to worry about my route, the weather or anything. I left that to Paul. I felt like a tourist with a guide. That was really nice.
Paul, with all the gear I don't have
Paul came with me all the way across. He turned back in high contrary winds that soon became thunderstorms. I worried enough to text him to call me when he got to the other side. Which he did… He made it although he did have a spell of white out in the rain and there was this little matter of the water funnel and six foot wave crashing directly on his kayak but otherwise he was fine and sounded unfazed. I sure wish I had that sort of confidence on the water.
On Mackau island, there are different abandoned buildings from before WW2. Walking into them is rather dangerous and you’d have to be a fool to go on the second floor but the sight of all that vegetation reclaiming the sites is just wonderful.
Ghost house that sat next to my tent site. I noticed it only after trying to set my hammock on trees a few yards away.
May 16, Quinby (David and Nicole’s lawn)
Last night I sensed something on my skin. It was not a pimple. It moved when I played with it. Worse, I was able to grab it. I put it in the light and it was a huge tick. Shivers run down my spine when I think about ticks. I tried crushing it but that’s not possible. So I took my lighter and burned the sucker. I spent the next 10 minutes looking for other ticks on me as well as in the tent. Good night and don’t let the bed bugs bite.
Regardless, I slept like a dead man. I woke up and as soon as I got out I knew I had to bolt. The mosquitoes were swarming around me. Packing my tent and gear under mosquito attack was a challenge. I got on my boat and headed off for a windless morning with the current running steadily against me. I was making no progress at all. Between 7 and 12, I completed about 10 miles. A little before 11, I wrecked my drive on a mussel bed. I bent both steel rods and the rubber covers were torn. I bent back to their original selves them the best I could and pushed on. I figured I’ll put the replacements I have in the hull when I get to the mouth of the Delaware. I hit other mussel beds all day.
Some of the nicest sceneries I've yet seen on this trip. This coast is entirely deserted.
The Army Corp of engineers decided to stop working on this water way 30 years ago. Now some of the markers have become islands!
When the wind did show up it was timid. Then by 2, it was howling from the east. I used the wind to cross Hog Island bay and then it got heavier. I was cold and it was past 5. I was considering sleeping in the marsh since that’s all I saw all day. No dry land anywhere. I was thinking about how to sleep on the trampoline. My mood was not high. I finally wave a boat as I got to a crossing that led to an inlet. Nicole and David told me about the marina at Quinby and offered their lawn. Since I was close to hypothermia this was sort of the best thing that could happen. Miracles do happen.
The brown house in the back is the one where I pitched my tent.
My saviours
May 18, Quinby
It turns out that the bad weather that pushed me into the Quinby Marina will last a few days. Yesterday I stayed at the Fisherman’s Lodge where every resident must have a large pickup; actually that’s true for all of Quinby.
Staying put on the fourth day is standard procedure but the wind would have forced me to stay anyway. The wind increased from a scary 20 mile per hour to 30 then to a steady 40 mile per hour late in the afternoon.
May 19, Quinby
Thunderstorms were forecasted and it rained hard in the morning so I chose to stay put another day. I’m exhausted anyway. This trip is starting to wear me out. I cannot afford to burn myself out.
I’ve met interesting people here. I now reside in the old general store. My friends rented it to me for half the price of the Fisherman’s Lodge. I also got a contact for a guide publisher so it’s really not a waste. This place is so remote that there is no phone service or stores.
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