"May you live in interesting times"

My father-in-law and his companion were in town for the weekend, so we decided a milk run to Block Island would be in order. An easy trip, plenty to do, and we’ve done it all before.

Right.

Friday was uneventful, in fact things came together so well that it was like we were meant to get out early and take this trip. I managed to get the refrigerator/freezer pump sorted out, stink free and quiet, and managed to get a couple of cabin fans installed to boot. Got my tools and mess cleaned up in time to greet the in-laws at home. We were dreading my wife’s schedule, she had two pregnant patients to induce that couldn’t be scheduled for any other day but Friday. This could have kept her in the hospital until Midnight for all we knew, but one went Thursday and the other delivered by 1500 on Friday afternoon. We were packed, set, loaded and on the boat by 4:30. An uneventful trip as far as the Point Judith Harbor of Refuge followed by a quiet night on the hook.

The next morning there wasn’t a breath of breeze, but the trip to Block from the Harbor of Refuge is very short, under two hours. We left after a relaxed breakfast and set off through th windless swells.

Our first tip that there was something afoot was an 80 foot sailboat stuck in the channel ahead of us. Stopped dead, she backed up and out. I raised the skipper (French accent on a Swiss boat) and had a conversation with them about what was up – they drew 10 feet and were having trouble getting in. I did not follow most of his long description of what they needed to do to get in. “OK,” I replied, “We draw eight feet and we’ve never come close to having a problem coming right up the channel.” Famous last words.

Five minutes later we were racked up hard aground on a sand bar. A really, shallow sandbar, extending some 30+ feet into the channel. The flooding tide kept us pressed against the bar, we couldn’t get off. If it was the middle of the ocean somewhere and I stuck on a bar at low tide I would have simply waited it out. Unfortunately this was the channel in to Block Island’s New Harbor during Idiot Hour: 1100 on a Saturday morning when the Searay wielding Cranston Navy is charging at full bore to belly up to the bar at the end of Champlain’s.

So we enjoyed the wakes from passing powerboats as they zoomed by a few feet from our bow while we were trying our hardest to get off. I guess it never occurred to any of them that IF I broke loose while they were crossing five feet from my bow at best they would likely come away with a lasting impression from a 105 pound CQR anchor all along their topsides. We broke down and had the SafeSEA/BoatUS tow boat pull us off; it was too hazardous to be blocking traffic with all the fools that couldn’t see the danger in the situation around us. (NOTE: My FIL had a BoatUS Card which helped over the exorbidant cost…my new membership card arrived on Monday, the very next day; I didn’t even know I was a member).

During this we noted the sand bar was shallow, and we were stirring up sand with our propeller wash. Some of this got sucked into the engine intake and stopped the water pumping for a while, but it was cleared out with a blast of sandy water when we broke free.

The rest of the day was uneventful and enjoyable.

The following day’s forecast was for “possible thunder showers with high winds” but mostly reasonable conditions. We figured it best to get going as soon as the tide was heading back in. We watched an unfortunate Beneteau 40.7 get caught on the same bar, and felt our urgency about leaving grow.

At this point it was time to check the raw water filter and impeller on our system to make sure we were not sanded up. We weren’t, but I failed to notice the raw water filter box hadn’t sealed up tightly. We saw the SafeSEA boat move over the sand bar in the channel and start waving boats off the sand bar, which we took as a good omen for leaving. In my excitement to get out safely I failed to verify the water coming from the engine until the anchor was almost up – a big mistake. We ended up having to re-set the anchor while the raw water pump housing cooled enough for me to swap out the impeller and re-seal the system. Then all was working well.

Passage out the channel was tense but uneventful, even though the SafeSEA boat was no longer on station.

We’d determined that sailing as much as possible, though it would take us longer, would be best given we weren’t 100% confident the engine was free and clear of sand clogging. This sentiment changed by the time we were a couple of miles past 1BI and the storm clouds and thunder were rolling in.

At this point we had the discussion “keep on, go back, or seek other shelter.” We opted to keep going on, as there was no guarantee the Northeast moving storms would affect us to badly nor was there any guarantee of safe shelter elsewhere. I don’t think anyone relished entering the Block Island harbor again in a blow. I don’t think that was a bad decision either, even in hindsight. We brought the boat home with no injuries or damage and we always had control of it – but it turned into quite a lively ride.

The first squall hit us South of Point Judith, sheeting rain and lightning and wind gusts into the high 30’s. We’d been hearing broadcasts of severe thunderstorm warnings, but by then we were far enough from either going back or forward to be anything but committed. We motor sailed with a reefed main and got quite a nice lift in speed from the breeze. No problem, though my shorts were pretty damp…

The Long Island Coast Guard sector kept broadcasting warnings of “damaging winds with gusts up to 65 knots with hail and killing lightning”, our own sector was talking about winds in the 30’s with rain and lightning. Not as scary, but closer unlike the other storms which were down near Fire Island.

About a mile South of Whale Rock the second squall caught up with us. We’d seen the NYYC racing fleet on the horizon and were shaking our heads over what they were doing out on a day like this. Never mind us – but we of course were in a much heavier boat and not stripped for racing.

The Long Island guys were a lot closer to being right; for the first time in my life I saw 60 knots of wind on the wind speed indicator (also known as the “Fun Meter” in the parlance of slightly insane racers like I used to be). It picked up into the 30’s then crept past 40. We furled the last of the main sail in as the world whited out and the wind howled it’s way to 60 knots. It hooted and howled at that level for 5-10 minutes then gradually dropped back to the 20’s again.

Do you know what though? It was exhiliarating (DISCLAIMER: My wife may not share this sentiment) and encouraging. The boat didn’t break a sweat. Our passengers in the cockpit didn’t even get damp and it never crossed their minds to seek out foul weather gear. What a boat, she could have handled it for days. The crew – another story, but I felt calm and in control the whole time.

The rest of the trip was…uneventful…but the day sure brought out some excitement. The startling thing is my father-in-law and his companion actually want to go sailing with us again.