American Pie: Yorkshire Lass - Part V
...As we entered Noank harbor, I inadvertently sailed over the anchor line of a resident’s boat, which became entangled with my rudder. At the end of a tiring day, and within yards of our slip for the night, initially it seemed to be a major problem that would take time and money to solve. But a guardian angel in the form of an amateur scuba diver, who happened to be living on his boat nearby, happily volunteered to untangle the line. This was the first of a series of incidents that would eventually result in us dubbing the trip, “The cruise from hell!”...
John Merchant, continuing his account of a love affair with a sailboat, tells of a cargo of trouble encountered while cruising to Edgartown on Martha's Vinyard.
To read the first four parts of this story and lots more articles by ace columnist John please click on http://www.openwriting.com/cgi-bin/mt-search.cgi?IncludeBlogs=1&search=john+merchant
And do visit his Web site
http://home.comcast.net/~jwmerchant/site/
The Cruise From Hell
The most testing cruise we took from Milford Yacht Club (MYC) was, without question, to Edgartown on Martha’s Vineyard. Even without the unexpected problems that bedeviled us, it pushed the limits of our endurance and skills. At the time, both Sandra and I were still employed, and had only a limited number of days before we had to return to our jobs, unlike some other cruise members who were retired. This constraint alone presented a challenge.
The cruise leader, who was an expert sailor, and also flew a private plane, planned the trip. Without his detailed schedule, which took advantage of favorable tides, we could not have reached Edgartown and returned in the 10 days we had available. Yorkshire Lass is a commodious boat, the penalty for which is that she moves slowly compared with less beamy vessels.
Our first day took us to Westbrook, Connecticut, where we swung on our anchor for the night, protected by the Duck Island breakwater. Though the anchorage is sheltered, the tidal currents are strong and turbulent, and often swing boats around, tangling the anchor rodes. Thankfully, we didn’t have that problem, and, after a quiet night, we left just after dawn the following day to catch the tide, heading for Noank, Connecticut.
As we entered Noank harbor, I inadvertently sailed over the anchor line of a resident’s boat, which became entangled with my rudder. At the end of a tiring day, and within yards of our slip for the night, initially it seemed to be a major problem that would take time and money to solve. But a guardian angel in the form of an amateur scuba diver, who happened to be living on his boat nearby, happily volunteered to untangle the line. This was the first of a series of incidents that would eventually result in us dubbing the trip, “The cruise from hell!”
After another early start, we set out the next day for Rhode Island’s Third Beach. Only minutes after we left Noank, a component of our automatic steering gear broke! Though not critical, the need to steer manually added to our fatigue, and meant that we could not leave the wheel unattended. Sandra is good on the helm, but not comfortable with it, even for a brief period, which cut down considerably on my breaks.
Third Beach offers a sheltered bay with a sloping, sandy beach. It is near to the grand Victorian, stone-built mansions of Newport, Rhode Island, which the wealthy owners refer to in all seriousness as their “summer cottages.” It’s an ideal vacation spot, but we were on a mission, and had no time for lying around on the beach. Dawn again found us weighing anchor to catch the tidal current that swept us up Vineyard Sound to our final destination. At one point we were doing better than 8 knots, which is three higher than our normal fastest speed.
For the second day now, I had noticed the voltage from the alternator varying, and had tightened the drive belt, only to find it slipping again later. I concluded the belt must be worn, and resolved to get a replacement in Edgartown, hoping at the same time that it would last that long. After we passed Gay Head, once we had completed the long curving approach in a boisterous breeze, we could see the jaunty Edgartown Yacht Club dock office, where we checked in and filled up with fuel.
In answer to my question “Do you get these conditions often?” meaning the strong breeze, the ruddy faced dock boy replied “Oh no, usually it’s windy!” We were allocated a guest mooring, which turned out to be in an interesting location. Behind us was Chappaquiddick Creek, scene of Ted Kennedy’s controversial car accident in which his passenger, Mary Jo Copechne drowned. The incident dogged his career until he died, in 2009.
Facing us was the summer home of the TV news anchor, Walter Cronkite, an avid sailor with a beautifully maintained yacht on a mooring just off his home. Later that afternoon, we were treated to the charade of seeing his crew of red-blazered young men prepare the boat for sailing, followed shortly after by Walter arriving in his tender, ready to up anchor and sail away. “Way to go.” I thought.
We spent a great deal of our two days in Edgartown hunting for a drive belt. Eventually, after a bus ride to historic Oak Bluffs, and long walk, we found a supplier who informed us that the used one we showed him was for a lawn mower, and was not adequate for the task we were subjecting it to, hence the need to keep increasing the tension. Another lesson learned.
The only compensation for the time we spent searching, was that we got to see more of the area than we would have otherwise. It is very beautiful, and it’s no wonder that the rich and famous spend their summers playing there. Pink, blue and purple Hydrangeas, which seem to thrive on cool, sea air, were in full bloom everywhere, as were banks of climber and rambler roses.
We spent our last night with a celebratory dinner, put on for the group by the very staid Edgartown Yacht Club. Tradition and history hung in the air like the scent of mothballs, with photographs on the wall attesting to the distinguished membership. We were impressed. The following morning we left in bright sunshine, with not a sign of the fog that is almost routine in the Vineyard. An hour later I couldn’t even see the bow of the boat from my position at the wheel!
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