Further south, the hurricanes were line dancing. Earl was in the lead, getting a bit frisky with the East Coast, while Rhode Island, Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard had big "hit me" signs on them.
This mama and her babies are adorable. But everything they eat comes back out in semi liquid form--likely on your boat. Only newbie boaters feed water fowl.
This mama and her babies are adorable. But everything they eat comes back out in semi liquid form--likely on your boat. Only newbie boaters feed water fowl.
We weighed anchor early Saturday morning and headed to the Fish Tail on the eastern end of Long Island, NY. Had it not been for the approaching hurricanes, we would have waited for wind. Although the wind only appeared long enough for 30 minutes of sailing, it was a gorgeous day with perfect temps. The good part of no wind was smooth seas.
We left our anchorage at Long Beach early the following morning and headed for Port Jefferson--also on Long Island. The winds were forecast to be on our nose, but light at 5 to 10 knots. So we shot through Plum Gut and entered Long Island Sound with true wind in the upper teens. This made the apparent wind (wind over the boat) in the 20s.
Early on, we tacked back and forth across the sound which added quite a few miles to the day. We ended up motoring the last bit on a rhumb line to ensure we made it in before dark--although it's an easy port to enter at night. We were just tired and used the dark thing as an excuse. The wind against the tide made most of the day lean toward the miserable side of the scale.
Our plan was to spend a couple of days in Port Jefferson before seeking the shelter of Oyster Bay. Our first day we spent exploring the town of Setauket. This is where we learned to tell the difference between a male and a female crab from a local expert.
House in Setauket.
We left our anchorage at Long Beach early the following morning and headed for Port Jefferson--also on Long Island. The winds were forecast to be on our nose, but light at 5 to 10 knots. So we shot through Plum Gut and entered Long Island Sound with true wind in the upper teens. This made the apparent wind (wind over the boat) in the 20s.
Early on, we tacked back and forth across the sound which added quite a few miles to the day. We ended up motoring the last bit on a rhumb line to ensure we made it in before dark--although it's an easy port to enter at night. We were just tired and used the dark thing as an excuse. The wind against the tide made most of the day lean toward the miserable side of the scale.
Our plan was to spend a couple of days in Port Jefferson before seeking the shelter of Oyster Bay. Our first day we spent exploring the town of Setauket. This is where we learned to tell the difference between a male and a female crab from a local expert.
House in Setauket.
We met an older local couple at the dinghy dock, where the man was netting crabs that got too close to the dock for their own good. Harvesting females was not allowed at the time, so when the lady asked how you know, the man had the obvious answer. If it's screaming when you pull it out of the water, it's a girl. Men always have an answer. Just ask us.
We had planned on one more day in the harbor so that we could peruse the town of Port Jefferson, but Earl was making better progress than anticipated, and being the nervous type, we headed for Oyster Bay the following morning.
Weatherman, Chris Parker, was predicting (if the hurricane came close) that instead of a surge, the bays on the sound would have water sucked out lowering the depth somewhat. So we made sure we anchored in water that was deep enough to compensate for a bit of a drop.
We secured everything we could but left the solar panels, bimini, dodger etc. on until we were sure we would get hit. Lisa had all our important papers ready to put in a ditch bag--we would have left the boat to fend for herself had Earl decided to confound the experts by hanging a left instead of a right. We seemed to be the only ones in the area that were a bit anxious.
God was watching over us as Earl weakened and stayed on his proper track. We got no wind from Earl, but once he passed a cold front brought us a couple of days of sustained winds in the mid 20s with higher gusts. Thirty knot winds sound sweet when you've had hurricane winds on your mind for a week or so.
Clouds from the front that passed a day or so after the hurricane fizzled.
We had planned on one more day in the harbor so that we could peruse the town of Port Jefferson, but Earl was making better progress than anticipated, and being the nervous type, we headed for Oyster Bay the following morning.
Weatherman, Chris Parker, was predicting (if the hurricane came close) that instead of a surge, the bays on the sound would have water sucked out lowering the depth somewhat. So we made sure we anchored in water that was deep enough to compensate for a bit of a drop.
We secured everything we could but left the solar panels, bimini, dodger etc. on until we were sure we would get hit. Lisa had all our important papers ready to put in a ditch bag--we would have left the boat to fend for herself had Earl decided to confound the experts by hanging a left instead of a right. We seemed to be the only ones in the area that were a bit anxious.
God was watching over us as Earl weakened and stayed on his proper track. We got no wind from Earl, but once he passed a cold front brought us a couple of days of sustained winds in the mid 20s with higher gusts. Thirty knot winds sound sweet when you've had hurricane winds on your mind for a week or so.
Clouds from the front that passed a day or so after the hurricane fizzled.
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